The Way We Weren't
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: A chance reunion leads to a friendship between former enemies.
1. Chapter 1

Some nights my overactive imagination doesn't let me sleep because it's busy assaulting me with story ideas. I own nothing. Not _Harry Potter_, not _The Way We Were_, I don't even own the computer I used to write most of this chapter. If you haven't seen the movie, no worries. I kept it pretty spoiler free. Also, watch it! It's amazing.

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Chapter 1  
On a quiet Wednesday afternoon, London's revival movie theater was deserted save for one person. Hermione Granger made her way to the middle seat in the middle aisle and made herself comfortable. For the first time in her life, she was playing hooky and enjoying it. When the newspaper announced a showing of _The Way We Were_, her mind was made up. Her shop was left in the capable hands of her employees and Hermione was spending the afternoon watching her favorite movie.

As the lights dimmed and the previews began to play, someone sat down beside her. "Really?" she muttered, annoyance rich in her voice. "Empty theater and you sit down next to me?" Then she turned to see who had joined her.

Draco Malfoy smiled a smug grin and settled in. "Do you own the theater?" he inquired. "I'm pretty sure I can sit anywhere I want."

It was clear to her that he hadn't changed. Five years removed from their school days, and Draco Malfoy was still the git he had been as a child. Gathering her purse and jacket, she moved down to put two seats between them. Draco merely smirked and stared at the screen. "Why are you here?" she wondered as the opening credits began.

He shrugged. "I wanted to see a movie," he replied simply.

"_You_ know what a movie is?" she asked incredulously.

Glancing at her briefly before returning his attention to the screen, he retorted, "I'm here, aren't I?"

Looking around to make sure that they were still alone, she leaned across the empty seats and whispered, "You know you're in muggle London, right?"

"I noticed," he replied. "Did _you_ happen to notice that the movie is starting?"

Pursing her lips, she turned her attention back to the screen. They watched silently, the only two people in the theater. Though she had seen the movie before, the story still captured her attention each time, and it wasn't hard to pretend that Draco wasn't there. Until she began to cry.

"Here," he said, holding out a handkerchief to her.

She offered a small smile as she accepted his offering. "Thanks," she replied. "This part always gets to me. Katie misses him so much. She'll never love anyone as much as Hubbell. And all she wants is her best friend. It's heartbreaking, isn't it?"

He moved a seat closer. "I hate to agree with you, but yeah," he said.

Hermione laughed. "Why do you hate to agree with me?" she wondered. "We both know I'm always right."

He rolled his eyes in a good-natured fashion. "She reminds me of you," he said softly. "Strong willed, fighting for her convictions."

"A bit preachy," she added.

Draco chuckled. "I thought it might be rude if I said it," he admitted.

"You've said worse," she pointed out.

There was no denying that, and he knew it. He had spent the first five years at Hogwarts teasing her for being muggle born. Then, before the start of their sixth year, he had been forced into the ranks of the Death Eaters and given an impossible task. That year he spoke to no one as his quest to kill the headmaster consumed him. The following year brought the disappearance of the Golden Trio and saw Voldemort setting up headquarters in the Malfoy home. He hadn't thought it possible, but that year had been more terrifying than the previous one.

"So, you've seen this before?" he asked, needing to think about something, anything, else.

Despite the darkness, he could see her blushing. "A couple hundred times," she admitted. "It's my favorite movie. My mum and I used to watch it together. Oh, look, it's the scene with them putting away the books. I love when they put away the books." He grinned at her excitement over so simple a scene. Then she sighed. "It's all downhill now that they're in Hollywood though."

"Wait, what?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Just watch."

They finished the movie without saying another word, and when the final credits rolled, they left. "I could use a coffee," he declared as they exited the movie theater. "Do you want to-"

"Why?" she wondered.

Shrugging, he said, "I just thought you might want to. Watching the movie with you, it was kind of nice."

Though taken aback by his statement, she nodded mutely and followed him to a nearby coffee shop. Draco spotted a small table for two by the front windows and pulled out a chair for her. He asked her what she wanted and made his way to counter to place an order for two cappuccinos. Minutes later, he returned and set a mug down in front of her.

"Do you do this often?" she wondered as she stirred a packet of sugar into her drink.

"Drink coffee?" he asked.

"No, I mean come _here_," she clarified. "This isn't exactly the place where I'd expect to find someone like you."

Shrugging, he leaned back in his chair and stared out the window. "People change, Granger," he replied. "Places like this...well, they don't help me forget, but it's something like that. I can be someone else here."

She nodded understandingly. "It's an escape," she agreed. "I've tried to convince Ron to come here with me, but he refuses. He prefers home and the familiarity it provides. But this was _my_ home first. I sort of wish he could show a little interest in it."

"I kind of like it better here," he admitted as his finger traced the handle of his coffee cup. "It's more peaceful. No one knows me or what I've done. Plus, movies. We don't have movies back home."

Hermione chuckled and choked on her coffee as she tried to swallow at the same time. "Yes, they're a bit behind on modern technology," she replied. "Although the cinema isn't exactly modern."

"It is for me," he said. "Um, my parents don't know that I do this. I doubt they would approve."

Her brows furrowed as she asked, "What do they think you do all day?"

Taking a sip of his coffee, he turned his head to glance out the window again. "I'm not sure they care," he confessed sadly. "After the war...it's like I said, people change. The one thing that hasn't changed though is their intolerance towards 'lesser beings.' Their words, not mine. Anyhow, with my father in prison, my mother tends to shut herself up in her room all day. It would be a miracle if she even realized I left the house. I just...I know it would make her crazy if she knew what I was doing."

Nodding, she finished her cappuccino and picked up her purse. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I should really get back to my shop."

She pulled her wallet from her bag and began to remove a few bills. "No, I got it," he assured her.

"You're sure?" she asked nervously. "I mean, you know you can't pay with-"

"I'm sure," he said, cutting her off. She thanked him and smiled, then turned to leave. "Hey, Granger. Do you think you might want to do this again some time?"

"Yeah, I think I might," she replied before leaving.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
"You spent your day at a movie?" Ron asked incredulously over dinner. Hermione nodded and continued to eat so she wouldn't have to share any more details of her afternoon. Especially the details that involved Draco Malfoy. "Did you go alone? You didn't watch that horrible movie, did you?"

Hermione looked up from her plate, a forkful of mashed potatoes halfway to her mouth. "What's wrong with that movie?" she inquired. "And why do you even care that I went to see it? It makes me happy. That should be enough."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Fine, whatever," he muttered.

Five years of this, she thought to herself. Five years of his dismissive comments. Five years of Ron Weasley belittling her. After the war, she had finished her education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Upon graduation, the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, had offered her a position in the magical creatures division. Hermione had been quick to accept, hoping to champion the rights of the house elves that she had tirelessly tried to free during her years as a student. But her proposals went nowhere and she quickly grew frustrated with Ministry life. When a small storefront became available in Diagon Alley, she jumped at the chance to open a new book shop to fill the hole left by Flourish & Blott's.

Ron had been upset. They, along with Harry Potter, were Ministry employees, which meant spending all day, every day together. And, in his mind at least, she had abandoned them. He never let her forget that they were supposed to be a team, and teams should stay together. But Hermione pushed on, intent on pursuing her dreams. She bought the space, decorated it, stocked the shelves, and hired the employees. Her business flourished, but he always asked her to come back to the Ministry.

"Why didn't you tell me about it this morning?" he wondered. "I would have met up with you after."

She set down her fork and pushed her half full plate away. "Sometimes I just want to be alone," she replied.

Ron snorted. "You were in a movie house. How alone could you possibly be?" he asked.

"On a Wednesday at one o'clock in the afternoon, it's pretty empty," she said, clearing her plate from the table. Getting up, she pulled on her a shoes and a light jacket. "I'll be in the shop if you need me. There's some paperwork I need to catch up on."

"Probably shouldn't have blown off work to watch a movie you've already seen a million times," he muttered.

She scowled at him, but said nothing as she walked out of her small flat. Descending the stairs, she entered the back room of her bookstore, The Magical Pen, and sat down at her desk. It was her own private sanctuary when Ron was around. And he was _always_ around. He would stop by unannounced, eat her food, and spend the night. As much as she loved him, there were times when he felt more like a rude house guest than a boyfriend.

But here, in her shop, surrounded by her books, she was undisturbed. Ron had set foot in her store once on opening day. He had no interest in reading, and therefore saw no need to visit. He would Apparate into her flat and wait for her there when he needed to see her. She wondered if he was still up there, or if she could return. There was nothing for her to do down here.

Deciding against a return to her flat, she walked out into the shop and browsed the shelves. She slowly wound her way through the aisles until she reached the front window displays. A minute was spent tidying up before she noticed the small gray owl on the ledge outside. She opened the front door and stepped out, slowly making her way toward the bird. It hooted when she appeared and offered her the letter attached to its leg. The owl flew away as she reached into her jacket pocket for a treat.

She opened the note as she made her way back inside, and discovered that it was from Draco. It was short and simple. He merely thanked her for her company that afternoon and proposed another meeting over coffee for the next day. He would let her choose the time and place, but he wrote that he hoped that she would say yes.

Returning to her small office, she searched the desk drawer for a pen. She had no idea how to reply though. Despite one pleasant afternoon together, she truly believed it had been a fluke. Or perhaps he planned to lull her into a false sense of security in order to exact revenge. He was a Pureblood and a former Death Eater, and she had a hard time believing that all he wanted was her friendship.

There were footsteps on the stairs behind her, and Hermione quickly stashed the letter in a file folder of invoices. "So, um, can I stay the night or are we fighting?" Ron asked, stopping just two steps from the bottom. "I figured you coming down here meant we were fighting."

Hermione rolled her eyes and massaged the back of her neck. Ron hated returning to the Burrow. His older siblings had long ago moved away from their childhood home, and his younger sister was on tour with her Quidditch team. It was just him, his overbearing mother, and his affable but spacey father. Molly Weasley, loving as she was, had a frequent habit of pestering the couple about marriage.

Marriage was the farthest thing from Hermione's mind.

Sighing, she glanced up at him. "I'm tired, Ron," she replied. "I think maybe you should go home."

Ron groaned and turned around. She knew her dismissal upset him, but she didn't care. The end of their relationship was near. It was something she felt so deeply. They should have broken up long ago, _years_ ago, but she feared losing his friendship. She feared losing his family. She feared the change it would bring.

Reaching for the folder that hid Draco's note, she reread it and picked up a pen. _Let's meet at The Magical Pen around three_, she wrote. _And thank you for today._


	3. Chapter 3

I love when people bring their kids to work. We had a baby here before. She was so cute, it almost made me want one.

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Chapter 3  
She had timed it perfectly. The shop was always just busy enough at three in the afternoon that she could easily slip out undetected, but not feel guilty about it. Straightening up a display table near the front of the shop, she spotted him easily as he entered. Without saying a word, she walked past him and exited the shop, expecting him to follow.

"What's wrong?" he asked, following behind her as she walked briskly toward The Leaky Cauldron.

It wasn't until they passed through the pub and arrived in muggle London that she spoke. "Sorry, I wasn't sure you wanted to be seen with me back there," she replied.

"Why? Because I'm a pureblood and you're muggleborn?" he asked. Stopping, she turned to face him and shrugged. "Do you really think that if I still believed in any of that rubbish, I would have wanted to spend time with you again? I enjoyed myself yesterday. I liked talking to you. And I wanted to do it again. And I'm sorry that you're not convinced that I've changed."

He turned back to the pub, ready to go home, when a hand on his arm stopped him. "No, I'm sorry," she replied. "Please. I'm just not used to you being kind to me. I'm sorry that I thought you would only want to associate with me here where no one knows you."

"Why did you ask me to meet you in Diagon Alley then, at the most popular shop no less?" he wondered, his eyes trained on her hand.

Pulling away her hand, she shrugged. "I was there when I wrote the letter. It was the first place that I thought of," she replied. "You really don't mind being seen by the whole world with me?"

"I really don't mind," he replied with a smile. "Although, I think there is something to this plan of yours. Could you imagine how much we would be hounded if we were seen together?"

She laughed nervously, but agreed. "We'd never be able to explain it," she added.

"Potter and Weasley would probably try to have you committed," he continued.

"And you arrested," she said with a gentle laugh.

Blond brows furrowed. "Why would I be arrested?" he wondered, holding open the door to the coffee shop they had visited the day before.

Hermione shrugged and walked to the counter. "You've clearly got me under some sort of spell. Why else would I be out with you?" she replied, reaching into her purse for her wallet. "And today this is my treat."

He tried to protest, but she sent him away to find a table. When she returned with two mugs, he asked, "What spell would I have you under?"

She sat down and smiled. "Something dark and dangerous, but undetectable," she decided as she stirred sweetener into her drink. "You wouldn't want to get caught."

Leaning back in his seat, Draco frowned. "You really think I would do that?" he asked. "Just to have a friend?"

Guilt turned her stomach. She could see the hurt in his silver eyes, and knew that she was the sole cause of it. "No, Draco," she replied. "Ten years ago, yes, I think you would have. Not now though. At least, I hope I'm right."

"You are," he said, relaxing his shoulders. After taking a tentative sip of his coffee, he smiled. "So, now that you know that I'm a reformed bad guy who likes to hang out where my parents wouldn't approve, tell me something about you."

A wave of self consciousness took over. "Like what?" she mumbled, distracting herself with her latte.

Draco shrugged. "Anything," he replied. "Tell me something you've never told anyone before."

"I hate peas," she told him.

He laughed but shook his head. "No, I mean something important," he prodded.

She thought about it for a moment. There were plenty of things she had never told anyone, things too embarrassing to share. But one seemed innocent enough. "I'm terrified of flying," she told him. "Well, Harry knows that. What he doesn't know is it isn't the height that bothers me. I'm afraid of falling."

"I've never thought about that," he responded.

She shrugged and took another sip of her drink. "I have no control over falling," she said. "I don't like not being in control."

Draco smirked. "Now _that_ I knew," he teased.

She smiled briefly, but it slipped away as quickly as it appeared. "Why do you want _me_ to be your friend?" she wondered. It was a question that had plagued her since she had received his letter the evening before.

He leaned forward, arms resting on the table. "I don't know," he admitted. "When I saw you in the theater yesterday, a part of me wanted to get a rise out of you."

"Which you did," she pointed out.

Draco nodded. "Yeah, but I also thought that it would be nice to have someone I can experience this world with," he continued. "You know it better than anyone else I know. And I thought to myself 'Hermione Granger can be my tour guide.' So, imagine my surprise when I find out that I actually enjoy talking to you. Forget actual conversation. You talking through the movie was enough for me. I went home wondering what we could watch next, what else would get such a visceral reaction out of you?"

She blushed a deep shade of red and ducked her head. Strangely enough, his words didn't sound insulting. He sounded intrigued by her. He showed an interest in her that Ron hadn't in years. "You'll grow tired of it eventually," she finally said sadly.

He grinned. "I doubt that," he replied. "What would make you think that?"

Hermione shrugged and looked out the window. "I just do," she mumbled.

Reaching across the table, he covered her hand with his own. "Well, don't," he told her.

She looked down at his hand, studying the veins beneath the porcelain skin. "Are you trying to lull me into a false sense of security so you can enact some nefarious scheme?" she asked.

Instead of the laugh she was sure she would receive, all Draco did was frown. "What can I say to make you believe me?" he wondered.

"I don't know," she replied truthfully. "Just...be honest with me."

He smiled and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I think I can do that."


	4. Chapter 4

There's really nothing better for a knee injury than a cold, damp, windy New Jersey day. I can just hear my mother telling me to go see Doc, which is a fitting nickname for my very short doctor.

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Chapter 4  
Draco returned to Malfoy Manor after his coffee date with a smile on his face. Taking the stairs two at a time, he stopped on the second floor to check in on his mother. Narcissa Malfoy hadn't left her rooms since her husband's incarceration, and so he only saw her when he visited. He knocked softly and entered.

"Hi, Mum," he greeted her softly. Seated at her vanity, Narcissa slowly brushed her long blonde hair. She glared at him in the lighted mirror, but said nothing. "Um, I brought you something," he continued, setting a blueberry scone on the corner of her table.

Setting down the brush, Narcissa tentatively picked up the wrapped pastry and cradled it in her hands. "My sweet boy," she murmured as tears clouded her vision. "Where did you get it?"

"The bake shop next door to The Magical Pen," he told her. "It's the new bookstore that Hermione Granger opened after the war."

Narcissa wrinkled her nose and set the scone down on the vanity table. "I don't want it," she declared. "Filthy mudblood. Wait until your father comes home tonight. He won't be happy to hear that you're frequenting mudblood shops. Really, darling, you should know better by now."

Frowning, he knelt down beside her and held her hand. "Mum, Father isn't coming home tonight," he said softly.

She pursed her lips and shook her head. "It's that damn business of his," she muttered. "He's away more than he's home. He's missed so much of you growing up. And before you know it, you'll be off doing more important things with your life, and he'll never see you. Such a pity."

A wrinkle appeared between his brows as he let go of her hand and stood up. His mother hadn't been the same after the war. Her home seized by a madman, her only child forced to commit dastardly deeds, her sister killed, and her husband jailed had contributed to her mental decline. And there was nothing he could do to help her.

Picking up the pastry, he placed it in her hand. "You should eat," he told her. "I'll come back to check on you in a bit."

She sneered at the scone, but continued to hold it as he backed out of the room. With the door firmly closed, he Apparated to The Magical Pen and searched for Hermione. She was stocking a shipment of Charms textbooks when he found her. Bending down, he picked one up from the box and handed it to her.

Hermione gasped, surprised to see him. "Oh, Draco," she replied, accepting the book. "Um, thanks. What are you doing here?"

"Can we talk?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper. "Somewhere private?"

Nodding, she handed her task over to a young girl with blonde hair and glasses. Silently, she led him to the back and took the stairs up to her flat. "What's going on?" she asked after closing the door behind him.

He took a seat and covered his face with his hands. "We're being honest with each other, right?" he asked. "Telling each other things we'd never tell anyone else?"

Hermione sat down on the coffee table and placed her hand on his knee. "Is there something you want to tell me?" she asked. "It'll just be between you and me."

Slowly, his hands slipped away from his face, but he had lost his nerve to tell her about his mother. The concern in Hermione's voice was comforting and new, and that frightened him. Shaking his head, he got to his feet. "No, it's nothing," he decided. "I'm really sorry I bothered you. I really should stop doing that. First the movie, now your job. What's next? I'm waking you up in the middle night?"

He paced as she watched him slowly come undone. "Draco?" she asked tentatively.

Leaning against the door, he shut his eyes and exhaled. "I'm sorry," he said. "You must think I've lost my mind."

Meeting him by the door, she shook her head. "No, honestly, I don't think that," she assured him, guiding him back to the sofa. She summoned the tea kettle to fill and boil, then sat down beside him. "You know I'll listen. If you want to talk, I'll listen. But you don't have to."

He sniffled and nodded. "Thank you," he whispered.

She prepared the tea and set two mugs on the coffee table. "How about a movie?" she asked, hoping it would take his mind off of whatever was bothering him, even if it was only for a couple of hours. He nodded and slowly sipped his tea as she picked out a video. She sat back down beside him and pressed play. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

His eyes were focused on her television screen. "No," he replied. "Let's just watch."

They were halfway through_ You've Got Mail_ when Draco sighed and leaned his head against the top of the couch. "What's wrong?" Hermione asked, pausing the film. "Is it the movie? Ron always hated it too. But you liked _The Way We Were_ so I thought maybe you'd like this one too. I can put something else on though."

He chuckled and shook his head. "No, no. I'm just thinking," he replied.

Hermione turned off the television and shifted to face him. "Anything you want to share?"

"Potter and Weasley are Aurors, right?" he asked. When she nodded, he continued. "Do you think they could tell me when my father will be released?"

She stared, taken aback by his question. "Do you want him to be released?" she wondered.

His eyes opened and trained on the ceiling above. "No," he admitted. "But I'm worried about my mother. She hasn't been the same."

"The war changed a lot of people, Draco," she replied softly, resting her hand on his shoulder.

Shaking it away, he got to his feet and glared at her. "How many of them have gone crazy?" he demanded. "Because she's losing her mind, and I'm scared that she's dragging me down with her."

Hermione rose from the sofa, and despite his pleas that she stay back, she moved toward him. "You're not crazy," she assured him.

"Aren't I?" he replied. "I _enjoy_ going to the muggle world. I'm sitting in _your_ flat watching movies. I wanted to befriend _you_. You don't think any of that sounds crazy?"

She took a step back. His words stung. Had he really just insinuated that mental illness must be the cause of their friendship? "I think maybe you should go," she said, her tone flat and devoid of any feeling.

He glanced at her, wide eyed and his mouth open. "Wait, Hermione, please," he replied. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I'm sure you are," she said, "but please go."


	5. Chapter 5

I have a little side job with one of the high schools in town proctoring the SATs. The money isn't bad, but the best part is that all the kids think I'm taking the test too. It's such a good ego boost! There's really nothing better than people thinking you're ten years younger than you really are.

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Chapter 5  
Harry Potter stood in the doorway to Hermione's office, watching silently as she worked. She had yet to acknowledge his presence, and he was sure that she had no idea he was there. After several minutes of waiting, he began to grow impatient and cleared his throat.

"I know you're there, and I promise I'm not ignoring you," she said without looking up from her paperwork. "I just need to get this done before we talk about whatever it is you came here to discuss."

Harry nodded and sat down across from her desk. When she finally put aside her forms and looked up, he smiled. "It's about time," he said with mock impatience. Hermione scowled and asked that he get to the point. "Okay, fine. There's something you should know. About Ron."

She eyed him curiously, but inside she was a nervous wreck. What if he was cheating on her? Or worse - planned to propose. "What is it?" she asked warily.

Harry sighed. "He asked if he could move into Grimmauld Place with me," he replied. "He thinks it'll make things better between the two of you if he moved away from Molly and Arthur. Are things still not good between the two of you?"

"Were they ever?" she retorted. The pair had had a love-hate relationship since she had pointed out the dirt on his nose when they were eleven. Ron teased her, mocked her, insulted her from that day on, but he always came crawling back when he needed her help. And, as a teenage girl, there was something about that that attracted her to him. Someone needed her, _wanted_ her for something even if it was her homework. That he relied on her at all became a heady thing, and fueled her crush on him.

Ron had always felt an urge to protect her. She felt safe with him around. There were times he acted like her knight in shining armor, but those moments were few and far between. And, she knew, she could protect herself. She didn't need someone else to rescue her. She didn't need _Ron_ to rescue her.

"I thought so," Harry replied, interrupting her thoughts. "Remember when he was in hospital after Malfoy poisoned him? He called for you, and I think that's the happiest I've seen you around him."

"Too bad that was six years ago," Hermione muttered. "So, are you going to let him?"

Harry shrugged. "Two slobs living together?" he asked. "Seems like a recipe designed to drive you crazy. Plus, I don't know if I really want a roommate. Ginny usually stays with me when she's in town, and things might get a bit awkward if Ron's there too."

She smiled knowingly, having accidentally walked in on their intimate moments more than once. "Seems like a good enough reason to me," she remarked.

"Yeah well, his other idea was moving in with you," Harry replied with a smirk.

Her smile turned into a tight-lipped line. "No," she said adamantly. "He has the means to find his own place to live. He doesn't have to live with his parents, or one of us. You would think that going his whole life surrounded by people and noise, that just once he'd like a little peace and quiet."

"You realize, then, that that would mean we would crave loud and cluttered," he pointed out. "Instead, we both continue to live alone."

"Hogwarts was enough loud and cluttered for me," she muttered. Harry nodded in agreement. "Could I ask you something? It's unrelated to Ron. And I'm swearing you to secrecy. Oh, and please don't get mad at me."

Harry chuckled. "You can ask me anything," he replied.

Hermione took a deep breath. "I sort of befriended Draco Malfoy," she said quickly.

If he was surprised by this news, Harry didn't show it. "So, what's the question?" he wondered.

It was she who was shocked. Never in a million years would Hermione have expected Harry Potter to be so calm about Draco Malfoy. "Wait, you're not mad?" she asked. "Upset? Disappointed?"

He shrugged. "I'm a bit hungry," he joked. "Does that count?" Frowning, she shook her head. "Okay, I'm actually really okay with this. If Malfoy can finally see how great you are, then I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. So, now will you tell me what your question is?"

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't mad. He wouldn't shun her. And she felt a smile begin in the corners of her mouth. "Can you find out how long Lucius Malfoy's sentence is?" she asked. "We had a fight the other day, and I feel bad about it. So, I'm trying to make it up to him. The information was never released though. Draco doesn't even know how long his father will be in Azkaban."

"Is he really that concerned?" Harry wondered. "He testified against him at trial. I thought he'd be happy to have him gone."

"Maybe he's having second thoughts," she guessed, knowing that wasn't the truth.

Harry nodded. "I'll look into it," he promised.

It was two weeks before Harry had an answer, and Hermione nervously awaited Draco's response to the letter she sent. She wrote that she had news and if he wanted to hear it, he would have to meet her at their coffee shop in London. Sitting at their usual table, Hermione nervously stared out the window as she finished her third cup of coffee.

The door opened as she ordered a fourth, and Draco shot her a hesitant smile. He joined her at the counter and ordered a small, black coffee. "So, what's going on?" he wondered when they sat down. "I haven't heard from you in weeks. I thought maybe you hated me."

Hermione frowned and shook her head. "Well, I guess a part of me did," she admitted. "But I also wondered if you maybe didn't mean what you said. I could see that you were hurting, and sometimes people say things they don't mean when they're upset."

"I didn't mean what I said to you," he vowed. "I hated myself for hurting you, Hermione. I really am sorry."

"I know," she replied softly. "Um, do you remember asking me if I could find out about your father's prison sentence?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah, I remember," he replied. "I didn't think you'd actually do it though. That _is_ what you're planning to tell me, right?"

"Do you still want to know?"

He leaned back in his seat and stared out the window. "Will it help my mother?" he wondered.

Hermione frowned. "No, Draco, I don't think it will," she replied.

He glanced at her briefly. "Life?"

And when she nodded, he knew his family would never be the same again.


	6. Chapter 6

I don't know if some of what I wrote in this chapter would be considered spoilers for _The Way We Were_. But be warned anyway?

* * *

Chapter 6  
"I've made a decision," Draco declared, stepping out of the floo and into Hermione's flat. If she was surprised to see him, it didn't show. She merely smiled and asked him to continue. "I want to be happy. I want to do things my parents wouldn't approve of. I want to go somewhere I've never been before. I want to feel sane again."

"Sneaking off to muggle London already fulfills two of those desires," she pointed out. "The question is how to make numbers one and three come true."

Nodding, he sat down beside her on the sofa. "Sometimes I think about moving out, leaving home," he shared. "I wonder what it would be like to live someplace smaller. The Manor has rooms I've never seen before. There's an entire wing that I've yet to find a purpose for going to. I want to live somewhere where I understand the function of each room, and there's only one."

"So, do it," Hermione replied with a shrug.

Sighing, he leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. "I can't," he muttered. "My mother will never leave the manor. And I can't leave her."

Hermione rose from the couch and walked over to her small kitchen. "So, what will you do?" she wondered.

Draco had spent days thinking about exactly that. When she returned with a plate of apple slices and cheddar cheese, he grinned. "Hang out here as much as I can," he told her.

"Sure, just you, me, and Ron," she replied sarcastically. "It'll be like a wacky sitcom."

His smile fell and he looked away. "Oh, um, sorry," he murmured. "I didn't realize you and Weasley lived together. I didn't even know the two of you were still together. Why haven't you mentioned it?"

Leaning back against the arm of the sofa, she eyed him. "I don't know. It never came up," she replied. "Besides, I don't think we'll be together much longer. I just...I've never broken up with someone before. Ron was my first boyfriend, if you don't count Jimmy Martin in the first grade."

Draco reached over and took her hand. "I absolutely count Jimmy Martin in the first grade," he told her as solemnly as he could, though a smile threatened to peek through his serious facade. "What happened with him?"

Hermione laughed and wrenched her hand away. "He moved," she replied. "To Australia. I was devastated."

He mimicked her posture, leaning against the opposite end of the couch; their feet meeting in the middle. "Explains why you waited so long to date again," Draco said. "I don't hate your boyfriend. During the war, when I was stuck in that house with mad men and parents who didn't seem to care whether I lived or died, I thought about what it would be like to grow up in the Weasley family. I think it would have been nice to have a mother like Mrs. Weasley."

Hermione nodded in agreement. Molly Weasley was a wonderful mother, but she could never replace her own mum. And that was exactly what she had tried to do when Hermione learned that the memory charm she had placed on her parents couldn't be reversed. Though her heart was in the right place, Molly soon became overbearing. The first chance she got, Hermione moved out of the Burrow.

"She's always been good to Harry and me," she replied. "My own parents were good to me too. It was like having a muggle family and one here in the wizarding world. I could be Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, and then I could go home and be Henry and Jane's daughter. I miss that sometimes."

"You still have the Weasleys," he reminded her.

Hermione shook her head and looked away. "It's not the same," she said sadly. "No one can ever take the place of your parents. No matter how hard they try."

Draco nodded and stared off, looking around the room. It was small, but cozy. Tall bookcases lined one wall, overflowing with her favorite works. Framed photos covered all available surfaces, and most showed a happy, smiling Hermione. Next, he glanced at a stack of VHS tapes and smiled. _The Way We Were_, their movie as he had come to consider it, was on top.

"Do you think Ron is your Hubbell?" he asked, meeting her gaze once more.

Hermione snorted. "No," was all she said. "Well, the breaking up part maybe, but the rest of our relationship doesn't really qualify him to be my Hubbell. Ron has never loved me like Hubbell loved Katie."

He shrugged. "I never got the feeling that he really loved her," he countered. "She was convenient for him. She loved him unflaggingly. But I never thought he loved her as much as she loved him."

"She amused him, challenged him to think," Hermione agreed. "But I think you're right. Maybe Ron is my Hubbell. I used to love him. There was a time when I thought we'd be together forever."

"What changed?" Draco wondered.

It was Hermione's turn to shrug. "The war ended," she said simply.

Draco nudged her foot with his toes. "You'd think that would have made things better," he replied.

"Yeah, you'd think," she muttered sarcastically. "The war changed him a lot. He got angry easily. You could see the darkness in his eyes. It was like he was a different person. He wouldn't get violent, just mad at everything and everyone. I remember seeing that look in his eyes for the first time when we were hunting the horcruxes, and after Fred was killed, the look never went away.

"And then he changed again," she continued with a heavy sigh. "He became clingy and needy. It was suffocating, and even though I knew he was hurting, all I could think was that I wanted him to go away. I just haven't worked up the nerve to tell him to do it."

He sat up, letting one foot fall to the floor. "What if we ran away together?" he suggested. "We'll go to Hollywood like Katie and Hubbell."

She smiled wanly. "It was all downhill after they went to Hollywood," she reminded him. "Besides, we have lives here. You have your mother. She needs you. You can't abandon her now."

Sighing, he leaned back once more. "Yeah, I know," he mumbled. "But it's nice to dream."


	7. Chapter 7

I'm a huge fan of the pro/con list, and I recently made one for family vacation. My parents thought it was ridiculous that at the top of my con list was the fact that the last time I shared a room with my little brother he punched me in the head at 4 in the morning. It seems like a legitimate con, right?

* * *

Chapter 7  
_Come over._

Hermione read and reread the note, wondering where she was supposed to go. The note had come from Draco, of that much she was certain. Though she was sure he was at Malfoy Manor, the grand estate was too large and too heavily warded for her to enter through Apparition, and her floo wasn't connected to his. Deciding there were no other options, she found a pen and wrote on the back on his parchment scrap, _How?_

Minutes later, her fireplace roared to life and a little elf stepped out. "Miss to come with Pinky?" the tea towel-wearing house elf inquired. Nodding apprehensively, she stepped into the floo beside Pinky and soon emerged in Draco's suite.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Draco murmured with relief when he saw her.

"What's wrong?" she asked as he embraced her.

Sighing, he pulled away and dismissed Pinky with a polite display of gratitude. When they were alone, he sat down in front of the fireplace and watched the flames lick the logs. "It's my mother," he eventually told her. "She's convinced You Know Who is back. Technically, I think in her mind the war is still going on. I came home late from work and went to check on her. She was pacing her room, and when she saw me, she started crying. Told me she thought he killed me for letting Snape cast the killing curse."

"She's regressed back to you being 16?" Hermione asked. "How long has this been going on?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know," he replied. "She stopped leaving her rooms after my father was incarcerated. The...what did you call it? Regression? I don't remember when that started. All I know is it's getting more frequent."

"What can I do?" she wondered. "How can I help?"

He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Can you just stay with me tonight?" he requested. "It's been a long day, and I just need something to take my mind off of what happened. I'll sleep on the sofa, you can take the bed."

"Worried I'll take advantage of you?" she teased, slipping off her shoes.

Looking up at her, he shook his head. "Other way around," he mumbled.

She walked over to his bed and sat down. "I'm not scared of you, Draco," she assured him. "I know you wouldn't hurt me. I also know that this bed is bigger than my flat. We'll both be okay in it. Might not ever even touch."

He nodded hesitantly and moved to the opposite side. "Does this make me Katie?" he wondered after several, silent, awkward minutes passed.

Hermione laughed. "Yes, it does," she replied. "Merlin, I can't believe you liked that movie."

He rolled over to face her. "Why not?" he wondered. "Better than the movie about the mail."

"Which we never finished watching," she added.

"That was the first time I'd gone to the movie house," he told her. "I walked past it a million times, but that day was the first time I'd ever gone in and seen a movie."

She smiled. "And you harassed me," she recalled fondly. "Tried to make it up to me with a cup of coffee afterwards. Do you find that usually works on women?"

Draco chuckled and inched closer to her. "Usually only the dumber girls," he replied. "Although, you _are_ in my bed now, so maybe it worked a little bit."

Her eyebrows rose sardonically, and she rolled over to leave. But his imploring voice kept her from following through. She turned back to face him. "You don't have to be crass," she chastised.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, reaching for her hand. She slid hers into his and smiled when he tightened his grip on her. "What would you have done tonight if I hadn't asked you to come over?"

She shrugged. "Probably would have slipped into bed with a pint of ice cream and a movie," she replied.

Letting go of her hand, he rolled over to fetch his wand from the nightstand. "We can do that here," he suggested, and with a flick of his wand, a television set rose at the foot of the bed. "I had it installed after we watched that movie at your flat. I didn't know you could do this until then. The thing is, I only have the one movie."

Hermione grinned when he pulled a video from the drawer. "I'm shocked," she remarked. "We really need to broaden your choices."

Draco frowned. "Do you not want to watch this?" he asked, studying the video case. He had thought _The Way We Were_ was something special. It had been what brought them together. But perhaps, to Hermione, it was just another movie. "I could probably send Pinky back to your place to get something different."

She took the video from his hand and crawled to the end of the bed. "It's my favorite," she told him. "I could never get tired of watching it. Plus, now you've seen it too, so I won't be distracted watching you while you watch for the first time."

"You were watching me watch a movie?" he asked dubiously as she set up the film.

Hermione moved back beside him and made herself comfortable. "It's a bad habit," she conceded. "Harry and Ron won't watch movies with me anymore because I'm always more focused on their reactions than what's actually going on."

Draco laughed as he started the movie. Halfway through, he called for Pinky to bring a pint of Hermione's favorite ice cream. "You didn't have to do that," she told him, lifting her head from his shoulder.

"Oh, right," he replied guiltily. "Your crusade for the house elves. I swear she's treated really well. It was my father who-"

"That's not what I meant," she assured him. "I can see that she isn't afraid of you, and you spoke so kindly to her. I just meant that the ice cream wasn't necessary. I'm getting a bit tired."

He nodded and directed her head back to its place leaning against him. "More for me," he told her. "Go to sleep. I'll try not to wake you."

Instead of resting against his shoulder, she shifted down and placed her head on his pillow. "Merlin, this is a comfortable bed," she murmured, closing her eyes.

Chuckling, he laid down beside her. Pinky returned with the ice cream and Draco smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Pinky. She's not hungry," he said softly. The little elf nodded and left with the dessert. When they were alone again, he let his head drop onto the pillow. "Hermione?" he whispered.

"Yeah?" she asked with a soft sigh.

He smoothed a few errant curls back behind her ear. "Thanks for doing this for me," he told her. "I really appreciate you coming over."

Though her eyes remained closed, she easily found his hand. "That's what friends are for, Draco," she replied before falling asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Hermione awoke with a groan when she felt a heavy weight across her waist. Thinking Ron had spent the night, she opened her eyes and tried to move the arm. But when she saw where she was, she relaxed. It was Draco's bed, Draco's room, Draco's arm around her. He tightened his hold on her as she rolled over to face him, but he remained asleep. She watched the flutter of his eyelids, felt his warm breath as he exhaled, stifled a chuckle when he began to sniffle.

"Morning," she whispered when his eyes finally opened.

He smiled tiredly. "You're still here," he replied.

"Did you think I wouldn't be?" she wondered.

"Thought it might have been a dream," he said with a shrug of his shoulder. "Can you stay, or do you need to get to work?"

He let go and watched her sit up to stretch. "I could eat," she told him. "But then I have to get to the shop. You could come with me if you want."

Pushing away the blankets, Draco got out of bed and summoned Pinky. "Won't that make Weasley mad?" he wondered. When the elf appeared, he ordered breakfast and dismissed her. "I'm assuming he doesn't know that we're friends. I'm also assuming he wouldn't be too happy about said friendship."

Hermione frowned. "Well, no, he doesn't," she admitted. "But I also don't care. You've been more of a friend to me in the last few weeks than Ron has been in years. If he doesn't like it, he can go jump off the Astronomy Tower."

Draco laughed as Pinky returned with and set up breakfast. "So, you'll defend my honor when he pulls his wand on me?" he inquired.

She moved from the bed to the small, two-person table and took a sip of the freshly squeezed orange juice. "You know I would," she replied. "Besides, he never comes to the shop. You'll be safe. Unless a shelf of books falls on you. It's never happened before, but there's a first time for everything, right?"

He sat down across from her with one thought in mind - this could be the first time Ron stopped by the store as well. But he wanted to spend the day with her, and so didn't mention it. They ate and Draco dressed for the day before flooing to Hermione's flat. He waited in the living room while she showered and dressed, and followed her downstairs to help open the shop.

"I've never worked on a Saturday before," he told her when she set him to work restocking the shelves. "This seems...unnatural."

"This from the man who visits movie houses in the middle of week," she retorted.

He smirked as she took a handful of books from him. "_This_ from the woman who does the exact same thing," he replied.

Hermione smiled. "Let's not fight," she decided. They finished stocking in silence and moved on to the front window displays. "What does your mother think you're doing right now?" she wondered.

Draco shrugged. "Well, if yesterday was any indication, she probably thinks I'm at school," he replied. "Or she thinks I'm just holed up in my room for the day. If I don't check in with her around supper, she'll worry though. It's like her one brief moment of lucidity each day."

"That has to be tough," she murmured, brows furrowing as she placed a hand on his arm.

He gave her a noncommittal nod. "I've thought about sending her to St. Mungo's," he shared. "They have to be able to take better care of her than I can."

"What's stopping you?"

He sighed. "Feeling like I've failed her. She needs me and I have no idea what to do."

Wrapping her arms around his waist, Hermione held him close. "Maybe the only way to help her is to get her professional help," she advised. "I'm not saying it'll be easy for either one of you, but it might be the best thing for her."

His arms tightened around her. "I've lost my father. Now I have to lose my mother too?" he wondered.

Hermione said nothing as thoughts of her own lost parents consumed her. Their memories wiped clean, they had no memory of their only child when they were killed in a car accident on their way to the airport. But it was her spell, her suggestion that they see Australia, that she believed killed them. She blamed herself daily for their deaths.

"Are you okay?" he asked when he heard her begin to sniffle.

She laughed in spite of herself. "Here I was trying to console you, and now I'm the one crying," she said as she pulled away.

"Were you thinking about your family or mine?" he asked, following her to the checkout counter.

"Mine," she replied guiltily. "Sorry."

Standing on the other side, Draco leaned across the counter and took her hands. "Don't be," he murmured. "There's nothing for you to apologize for. I would have thought it odd if it didn't make you think about your parents. I'm the one who should be sorry. I didn't think about how talking about parents might make you feel."

Hermione shook her head. "We're both a bit pathetic this morning," she decided.

"Must be why we get along so well," Draco agreed. He gave her hands one final squeeze and let go.

"Do you ever wonder, if you weren't force fed all those beliefs about blood purity, if we would have been friends in school?" she asked.

Shrugging, he moved to the nearest display table to peruse the merchandise. "I remember seeing you on the train that first time," he told her. "Blaise Zabini thought I'd gone crazy. I sat near the exit, staring out, waiting for you to pass by. I think you were the first girl I ever had a crush on."

"Until you found out I was muggleborn," she said.

He nodded, eyes downcast with shame. "Yeah," he muttered. "After that, I knew I wasn't supposed to like you so I forced myself not to. I teased you, called you names, enlarged your teeth."

She smiled at the memory of that day in their fourth year when she convinced Madame Pomphrey that her teeth should be smaller as she reduced them to their normal size. "That last one I didn't mind," she replied, flashing a toothy grin. "What about the time you warned us about the Death Eater attack?"

He turned to face her. "I didn't want you to get hurt," he admitted. "Because no matter what your heritage is or how often you annoyed me in class by always having the right answer, I didn't want anything to happen to you."

Rounding the counter, she stood in front of him and took his hand. "I'm sorry I hit you third year," she said.

Draco chuckled. "I deserved it," he conceded.

"Yeah, maybe," she agreed with a soft chuckle.

"I really do care about you," he murmured, cupping her cheek.

Hermione placed her hand over his. "I really care about you too," he replied.

He stepped closer and rested his other hand on her waist. "Please don't hex me for what I'm about to do," he warned her as he gently tipped his head forward and kissed her.


	9. Chapter 9

Happy Friday! My cousin is getting married tomorrow, which means open bar. And after the week I've had at work and the complex my coworker is trying to give me about food and my dress, that's the thing I'm looking forward to the most.

* * *

Chapter 9

She hadn't hexed him.

Hadn't slapped him.

Hadn't pushed him away.

Didn't even think about reprimanding him for kissing her.

Instead, Hermione had wrapped his arms around his waist, held him close, and allowed him to deepen the best kiss she could ever remember receiving. It was a brief moment of nirvana that ended too soon when Draco pulled away. "Sorry, I probably shouldn't have done that," he murmured, blushing slightly.

"Why?" she wondered as he took a step back.

He raised one eyebrow incredulously. "Weasley," he reminded her.

Embarrassment colored her cheeks. "Oh, him," she mumbled. Draco nodded. "He's never kissed me like that. I don't think anyone's ever kissed me like that."

"Like what?" he wondered.

Her blush deepened. "Like they love me," she told him.

Draco's brows furrowed as he stepped closer once again. "Why have you stayed with him so long?" he wondered. "You don't love him, you don't want to be with him. Why stay with him?"

Hermione shrugged and returned to her place behind the counter. "I don't know," she replied. "He's the only person I've ever dated. I'm not saying that I need a boyfriend to make my life feel complete, but losing Ron means losing a lot of other people too. I don't want to be alone."

He followed her and turned Hermione to face him. "You're not alone. You've got me," he promised.

Though she nodded, she didn't quite believe him. "What happens when you get tired of me?" she wondered.

"That's not going to happen," he replied with a soft chuckle. "I find you far too entertaining to ever become bored with you."

"Please be serious," she chided.

"I am," he told her with a smile on his face. "I lost a lot of friends because of the war. Most of them, it's fine. Doesn't bother me that they're not around. But you? I love when you're around. I'm happy. _You_ make me happy. I don't know that I can say that about anyone else."

She felt a sense of pride. The boy who had once insulted her for having muggle parents was now professing his feelings for her. And this time they were good. But there was Ron to think of. Harry, who would be caught in the middle of their potential break up. There were Molly and Arthur who had been like parents to her. Ginny would never speak to her again if Hermione broke her brother's heart. And Ron _would_ be heartbroken, completely blindsided by the split.

Snapped from her thoughts by Draco's hand on her cheek, she looked up at him. "Thank you," was her only response.

He stepped back, clearly confused by her comment. "That's it?" he wondered. "I tell you how I feel, and all you can say is thank you? I thought some part of you might feel the same way. Guess I was wrong."

Hermione stood, dumbfounded, as Draco walked away. "Wait," she said when he reached the locked, front door. He stopped and turned to face her. Taking a deep breath to fortify her nerves, she left the counter to stand before him. "I feel the same way, and it scares me," she confessed. "We hated each other for so long that sometimes it's hard for me to accept the way I feel about you. And then I feel guilty because we've been friends for a month and I already have stronger feelings for you than I do for Ron. I mean it when I say that was the best kiss I've ever had, and I want to do it again."

Draco nodded, but turned the locks on the door. "Well, thank you," he replied.

She watched in stunned silence as he opened the door and walked out into the early morning rain. It was happening again. They were fighting, walking away from one another. And Hermione hated it. She hated that he left. Hated the way he dismissed her feelings. Hated that he hadn't looked back even once.

Deciding she wouldn't allow another fight to occur, she left the shop, not caring if the door shut behind her. "Draco, wait," she called out. He was well ahead of her and gave no indication that he would heed her request. "Please," she said, running to catch up with him.

"Why?" he asked when he finally stopped and faced her. "I get it. You don't believe that I've really changed. You think this has all been some act, some way to trick you so I could just eventually hurt you. Because I'm still the bad guy, and nothing I do will ever change that in your mind. So, just let me go, Hermione. Let's end this now and be done with it before either one of us gets hurt."

Hermione stepped back, shocked by his outburst. "That's really what you think I meant?" she asked. Draco shrugged and looked away. "I know you've changed. I've seen it. You hold my hand and let me sleep in your bed and _you_ kissed _me_. You haven't called me a mudblood once. You haven't sneered at me like you used to. You listen to me when I complain about a bad day. I don't want to let you go."

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his damp hair. "I don't want to let you go either," he admitted. "I just don't want to fight with you. And I don't want to constantly have to remind you that I'm not the same person I was in school. All I want is a friend, and I thought that's what I had."

"It is," she insisted. "I _am_ your friend, Draco, until you decide we really are done. But I don't want to be done. I care about you too much to just walk away. I'm sorry that I hurt you."

Stepping closer to her, he brushed a wet curl away from her face. "I care about you too," he replied. "Sometimes it scares me too. I'm not used to feeling this way about someone else."

"What is it you're feeling?" she asked, placing her hands flat against his chest. Beneath them, she could feel the wild thumping of his heart.

He smiled as he cupped her cheek. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I think it could be love someday. What comes between like and love?"

"Lust?" she guessed.

Draco chuckled. "Well, I _did_ enjoy having you in my bed last night," he replied. Hermione rolled her eyes and gently slapped his chest. "You can't deny that you liked being there too."

"No nightmares," she told him. "Plus that mattress is incredible. I want one for my flat."

"And my presence?" he wondered.

Hermione shrugged. "Hardly noticed," she said carelessly. "Were you there the whole time?"

He gave one of her curls a gentle tug, but couldn't fight back a smile. "I liked having you there," he confessed. "Do you think you might want to do it again sometime?"

She returned his smile with one of her own. "Do you think you might want to kiss me again?" she asked.

He nodded, and did just that.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The paper arrived as Ron sat down to breakfast. Already late for work, he ignored it until his father picked it up. "Merlin's beard!" Arthur Weasley exclaimed as he stared at the front page of _The Daily Prophet_. "Ron, have you seen this?"

Ron set his spoon down in his bowl of oatmeal and turned to his father. "No, what is it?" he wondered. The older man handed over the paper and watched with concern as his youngest son set his sights on a photograph of his girlfriend kissing their childhood enemy. The paper wrinkled in his tight grip as an angry redness overtook his features. Forgetting his food, he tossed the paper aside and marched over to the fireplace. With a handful of floo powder, he stepped in and angrily demanded that the floo take him to Hermione's flat.

He moved with heavy footsteps through the small space searching for her, but each room was empty. He went back to the living room, threw open the door, and made his way down to the shop below. It was still early and the store wasn't open yet, but he knew Hermione well enough to know how early she rose to get everything in order. But, like her flat, there was no one in the shop. Going back upstairs, his mind full of thoughts and worries, he sat down on her sofa to wait.

It wasn't long before the fireplace roared to life and Hermione stepped out. Oblivious to the man on her couch, she took her time shaking the soot from her hair and pajamas. "Where were you?" Ron demanded, startling the unsuspecting witch.

Hermione dropped her bag to the floor and hurried to pick it up. "What are you doing here?" she asked nervously.

"I asked you first," he retorted, getting to his feet.

Hermione stepped away from the fireplace and set her bag down on the coffee table. "I spent the night with a friend whose mother isn't doing well," she told him.

Ron opened the window and retrieved the newspaper that the delivery owl had dropped off earlier. "This friend?" he asked, holding up the front page.

She grabbed the paper from his hands and stared wide eyed at the photo of Draco kissing her. "We were the only ones there," she muttered. "How was this even taken?"

"_That's_ what you're concerned about?" he asked incredulously. "It doesn't matter how _I_ feel? I'm your boyfriend, Hermione, and you're running around snogging Malfoy in public. Since when are the two of you even friends?"

"It's been about a month or so now," she confessed. "We fight and drive each other crazy sometimes, but he's been a really good friend."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, bully for you," he retorted. "So, I take it from what you just said that I haven't entered your mind once. Is this," he pointed at the picture, "your way of dumping me?"

Hermione shook her head and tossed the newspaper aside. "No, Ron, it wasn't," she replied, taking a seat on the sofa. "Honestly, at that moment, I wasn't even thinking about you or us. I don't think I was thinking about much of anything really."

"Obviously," Ron muttered.

"I'm sorry, Ron," she said. "I'm sorry that you had to find this out from the paper."

He leaned against the fireplace, hands in his pockets, as he asked, "Are you sorry that you let him kiss you?"

Looking down, she shook her head. "No, I'm not," she replied. "Draco makes me feel special, like I'm the only person in the room. He cares about what I have to say. We spend time together, and there's nothing uncomfortable about it."

"But it's like that with us," he reasoned.

Hermione shrugged. "Sometimes," she admitted. "Sometimes I feel like you only pretend to listen, and when we're out you spend the whole time staring around, trying to find something to hold your attention. And I always knew that would never be me."

He sat down beside her and stared at his hands. "There was a time when you did," he told her. "I don't know what changed. You've just always been there. I guess I figured you always would be."

"And I always will be," she promised. "Us not being together won't change that."

Ron nodded, hoping she was right. "So, you think we can still be friends if we break up?" he wondered.

Hermione grinned and took his hand. "Absolutely," she replied. "You've been my best friend for far too long. I don't want to lose you."

He sighed as he looked at their joined hands. "I'm sorry that you felt like I didn't care about you," he said. "I'll always care about you, Hermione."

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "I really am sorry that I hurt you. It's never been my intention," she replied.

Ron nodded, let go of her hand, and got to his feet. "So, um, I'll see you soon?" he asked. "Maybe one of these days I'll stop by the store. I hear it's great."

"It _is_ great," she agreed. "I think you'd like it. We just got in a whole new shipment of Quidditch related books."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black, velvet box. "I got this a few months ago," he said, never once looking away from the closed box. "I've thought about proposing a dozen times, but always chickened out. Maybe it's for the best, I reckon. Anyway, I should get to work."

Hermione nodded solemnly, and he left with a promise that he would stop by again soon. Hermione sat alone in her flat once more, mulling over their rather easy break up. She had expected the usual Ron Weasley anger. Instead, he seemed defeated. He'd given in, and given up, too quickly. Perhaps he had seen the end as she had.

Now that the weight of her relationship was off her shoulders, she stepped into the floo and arrived in Draco's room. "It's over," she told him.

"What is?" he wondered as he laced up his shoes.

"Ron and me," she replied. "You and I made the front page of the _Prophet_. He wasn't thrilled, but I don't think he was surprised either. Well, about us. _You_ were a pretty big shock, of course."

Draco nodded and finished dressing, pulling a blue button down shirt over his white undershirt. "So, what does this mean?" he asked.

"It means you and I can be together now," she explained, hurt by the lack of emotion in his voice. "It means we don't have to feel guilty that we're hurting anyone by being together."

He shook his head and grabbed a black blazer. "I couldn't care less if Weasley was hurt," he informed her, moving past her to grab his briefcase.

She grabbed his arm to stop him. "Are you mad at me?" she asked. He shook his head. "Do you...do you not want to be with me?"

He sighed and stopped resisting her hold on him. "I do," he replied. "Merlin, you know I do. It's just...I don't want to be the rebound guy. If you need to just be friends right now, I'm okay with that. Don't rush into some new relationship if you aren't ready."

She slid her hand down his arm until she held his hand. "I'm not rushing anything," she assured him. "I like being with you. You are _exactly_ who I want to be with. We can go slow. I'm fine with going slow. As long as it means I get to be with you."


	11. Chapter 11

God bless you, water main break! We're getting out early, so I thought I'd get this up now before I leave.

* * *

Chapter 11

It was late and Hermione had already gone to bed when Draco stepped out of the floo. Though the lights were off, he easily navigated his way through the living room, down the short hallway, and into her bedroom. A thin shaft of moonlight illuminated the bed and the sleeping woman. Pulling back the blankets, he eased in beside her.

Hermione stirred and rolled over to face him as his arm wound around her waist. "Hi," she mumbled.

"Go back to sleep," he whispered, closing his eyes.

Instead, she sat up. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "I thought you were staying home tonight."

Sighing impatiently, he too sat up and turned on the lamp by her bed. "My mother saw the paper," he told her. "I tried to convince her you were Pansy, but that didn't work."

"They printed our names," she pointed out.

Draco nodded. "Yeah, that's why it didn't work," he replied. "She was really mad. I don't think she's yelled at me like that since I was four and made the china cabinet explode. She was going on and on about when my father gets home and how angry he's going to be. Then she started talking about how I've tarnished the Malfoy name, and how muggleborns aren't worthy to breathe our air. It just got so ridiculous that I had to leave. Sorry that I woke you."

She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. "It's fine," she assured him.

He kissed the top of her head before asking, "You know I don't believe her, right?" Hermione nodded, but didn't look up. "I'm not telling you this to make you feel bad or hope that you regret being with me. I just needed to talk."

"I wasn't thinking that," she replied.

He slipped his arm around her shoulders and held her close. "Then what were you thinking?" he murmured.

"That I feel responsible," she replied, looking up at him for the first time since he had awoken her. "She's upset and it's my fault. I just feel bad that you're the one stuck dealing with it when it's my fault."

Chuckling, he pulled back to make sure she was serious. "You don't really believe that, do that?" he asked. "You can't honestly think that our relationship is entirely your fault. It's preposterous, Hermione. Besides, what she thinks doesn't matter to me."

"Then what's bothering you?" she wondered.

He shrugged and rested his head against the headboard. "I don't know," he admitted. "You know I worry about her. There was one thing she said while she was sobbing. About how Voldemort will punish me when he finds out. She was just holding onto me, begging me to end this now before he finds out."

"Maybe for the sake of her sanity, that's what you should do," Hermione said sadly, though she was more upset for his mother than the end of their brief relationship. He stared at her, shocked, and began to climb out of her bed. But her hands on his arm stopped him. "Please don't run away. I don't want things to end between us."

"But you think we shouldn't be together because of my mother," he retorted. "Is this how things are going to go between us? We're happy one minute and breaking up the next?"

Holding tighter to him, she replied, "No, that's not it at all. I just think it's important to consider your mother's mental health in all of this. I would hate to think we're the reason she gets worse."

Sighing, he laid back down beside her. He didn't want that either, but he also wanted Hermione. They just needed to figure out how to balance the two. "Can we just go to sleep?" he asked. "I don't want to think about this anymore."

Nodding, she let go of his arm and, with a flourish of her hand, shut off the light. They could discuss their relationship in the morning.

But when morning came, Draco was gone.

Hermione awoke alone and disappointed. Slipping out of bed, she listened for sounds of a running shower or the smells of breakfast cooking on the stove, but was met with neither. Padding barefoot down the short hallway to the kitchen, she brewed a fresh pot of coffee and readied herself for the day.

Fed, caffeinated, showered, and dressed, she set the wards on her flat. Most were meant to keep out intruders, but she set a special one to alert her if Draco returned. She didn't expect him to come back, and wouldn't get her hopes up that he would. Glancing once at the empty fireplace, she left her flat for the shop below.

Thinking she would be alone, Hermione was startled to find her shop assistant, Mary, already there. "You made the paper," she said, a self-satisfied grin on her face.

Hermione rolled her eyes and ignored her as she began to stock new inventory. "Good morning to you too," she muttered.

"How did Ron take it?" Mary asked. "Did his head explode? I mean, not literally. That would be messy. But you know how angry he gets. Remember when they discontinued droobles? I thought he was going to put his fist through the wall."

Mary was a young, energetic, recent Hogwarts graduate. With low N.E.W.T. scores, she had had a hard time finding work until Hermione hired the enthusiastic Hufflepuff. She was an excellent worker, but Hermione often felt worn out after even the shortest conversation with her.

"Ron took it well," was all Hermione said.

"So, are you with Draco Malfoy now?" she prodded.

Sighing, Hermione turned to the young witch and shrugged. "I have no idea," she told her. "We were together yesterday. I have no idea where we stand now. He left this morning without a word."

Dark blonde brows furrowed. "What could have changed in the course of a day?" she wondered.

My big mouth, Hermione thought. But before she could answer, her wards alerted her to Draco's presence. "Be right back," she mumbled. She took the stairs two at a time and entered her flat to find Draco seat on the sofa. "Welcome back."

Draco looked up and frowned, confused by the flatness of her tone. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

It was then she saw the bloodshot eyes and red, sniffly nose. By all appearances, it seemed he had been crying. Forgetting her anger over waking up alone, she sat down beside him and took his hand. "What's wrong?" she asked.

He took a deep breath to collect himself. "I went to see my father," he said. "To talk about my mother."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

It was still dark when he had awoken and quietly slipped out of Hermione's bed. She slept, unaware that she was now alone. He hated leaving her, knowing there was so much they needed to discuss. But his mother's worsening condition weighed heavily on his mind.

Still dressed in the clothes he'd worn the day before, he floo'd to Azkaban Prison. Stopped by a security guard, he announced his intentions to see his father and handed over his wand. Now unarmed, Draco was led to a small room with only a table, two chairs, and a dim light overhead. The gray room had a single window beside the door, allowing him to watch as his father, chained at the wrists, was escorted to him.

Lucius Malfoy, haggard and frail, sat down across from his only son. "It's good to see you," he said, his once regal voice now raspy.

Draco nodded. "Sorry it's been awhile since I visited," he replied. "Um, I wanted to talk about Mum."

His father sat forward, concern evident in gray eyes so similar to Draco's. "Is she alright?" he asked nervously. In response, Draco shook his head and looked down. Lucius reached across the table and took his son's hands. "What's wrong?"

He looked first at the older man's hands, then up at him. "You did this to her," he whispered.

"Did what?" Lucius asked, his grip on his son's hands tightening.

Draco's vision began to blur as he attempted to force back tears. "She's sick," he said. "Her mind is practically gone. She thinks You Know Who is still here and she cries for you. She keeps asking when you're coming home, and I can't bring myself to tell her that you'll never be back."

Lucius let go and sat back in his chair. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"Don't be sorry," Draco replied. "Help me. Tell me what to do for her. Because the deeper into this she gets, the deeper into I get. It scares me to think that I'm going crazy too."

"She's been this way since I was incarcerated?" his father wondered. Draco nodded and wiped his eyes. "Merlin, five years. And you've tried? You've tried to tell her the truth?"

"In the beginning, I did," he replied, "but she didn't believe me. She threw a perfume bottle at my head and called me a liar when I first told her. Told me Voldemort had busted you out of this place, that you were just away on business. That's what she thinks now - you're just away on business. But then that upsets her too. She spends her days locked up in her room, crying."

Lucius breathed a sigh of regret. Draco had been right. His wife's declining mental health was his fault, and he was to blame for his only child's well being also. "I want you to take her to St. Mungo's," he instructed. "Take her there, see if they can help her. Then leave the Manor. I fear there are too many memories there for either one of you."

"You want me to abandon her? Our home?" Draco asked.

The older man shook his head. "No, I want the two of you to be well," he said softly. "I _need_ the two of you to be well. You're right to say that I did this to her. All I think about is what I should have done differently. There's nothing I can do to change the past, and there's no way I can affect the future but to say to get your mother the help she needs."

Draco nodded, knowing his father was right. The manor was toxic, and they needed to get away from the horrid place. "I know," he murmured. "I just...it scares me to lose the both of you."

A warm smile touched Lucius's lips; a smile Draco had never seen before. "You won't be alone," he assured his son. "If the reports in the paper are to be believed, you have Miss Granger."

His mouth hung agape. "You know about that?" he asked, worried that his father's anger would soon come out to play. But Lucius merely nodded and continued to smile. "And you're not...mad?"

Lucius shook his head. "Are you happy with her?" he asked.

"Really happy," Draco admitted. "She's a good distraction on bad days."

"Then you're not alone."

"I have an appointment tomorrow morning to bring my mother into the mental ward at St. Mungo's," he concluded. "I hate that he was right. And I'm terrified for her. What if there's nothing they can do?"

Hermione had listened as he detailed the visit with Lucius Malfoy. The older man had changed, of that much she was certain. Draco had said that he hadn't seen his father since his sentencing and was just as surprised by his change of heart.

"I could go with you," she offered. "I'm not your mother's favorite person, but it might help to have a little moral support."

Draco nodded, though refused to commit to the idea. It would be hard enough to get his mother to the hospital. Having a muggleborn on hand to help might drive the witch over the edge. "What if you just meet me when I'm done?" he suggested. "We'll get something to eat and you can take my mind off of everything."

"I can do that," she agreed. "I have a friend who works at St. Mungo's. I'll visit with her a bit. She's in the maternity ward, so you'll know where to find me."

Once more he nodded and steeled himself for the second part of the conversation. He had been careful to omit his father's advice about leaving the family manor behind, but knew it was a topic that needed to be discussed. "So, um, there was something else," he told her uneasily. "I'm, um, moving out. There's a good chance my mother will be in the hospital for awhile, and I don't think I can stand to live in that huge house alone."

Hermione smiled and squeezed the hand she still held. "Well, you could always live here," she suggested. "It's small, but you won't get lost."

Brows furrowed, Draco asked, "You're sure?"

She nodded in return. "My reasons might be a bit selfish," she admitted. "I feel safe when you're next to me . You keep the nightmares away."

"Are they bad?" he wondered, knowing how truly frightening he found his own.

"I just...relive things. Things I never want to see again," she replied. "Or people I wish were still here."

Draco nodded, understanding exactly how she felt. He often dreamed of Voldemort's occupation of Malfoy Manor. Of the people who were tortured and killed while he was forced to watch. He heard Hermione's screams as his aunt cast curse after curse upon her frail body. He relived his friend Crabbe's death in the Room of Hidden Things. But on the nights he held Hermione in his arms, the dreams came less frequently and ferociously.

Leaning down, he kissed the top of her head. "Thank you," he murmured. "For all of it."

Hermione grinned and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "_That's_ what girlfriends are for," she replied.


	13. Chapter 13

Nothing makes this girl feel loved like going to my parents house and listening to my father grown about my presence. And then he gets adorable. I was over last night, he groaned, and then said to me "who takes care of you?" I said him, he smiled, and replied, "you know I do." Because I'm the son he never had. My brothers were thrilled when he said that.

* * *

Chapter 13

Hermione stood at the nursery window, watching the newborns sleep as she waited for her friend, Susan Bones, to arrive. When the former Hufflepuff finally arrived, Hermione was far too distracted to notice. "They're just so cute," she gushed, thinking she was speaking only to herself.

"Yeah, but that one's going to be a handful," Susan remarked, pointing to a little boy in the center cradle. Startled, Hermione gasped and turned to greet her friend. "Sorry, thought you saw me there."

Shaking her head, hand over her heart, Hermione told her it was fine. "Thanks for keeping me busy," she replied. "All this stuff with Draco's mother, it's all I can think about. Then I start to worry about him and how he's going to handle it once it's all said and done. He's already beating himself up. I can't imagine how he'll be if this stay becomes long term."

"You're not concerned that he'll end up here too, are you?" Susan asked.

"Well, I am now," Hermione replied with a small laugh. "Honestly, that hadn't even crossed my mind."

Susan led her to the Healers' lounge and poured two cups of tea. "I think you'll be alright," Susan assured her. "And as long as you stay strong, Draco can be strong as well."

Hermione nodded, hoping her friend was right. "Do you know anyone in the mental health ward?" she asked. "It would just put his mind at ease to know he's got someone looking out for her."

"Sure, Cho works up there," Susan told her. "I'll ask her to check in on Mrs. Malfoy when she can."

Hermione expressed her gratitude and breathed a sigh of relief. "So, tell me something happy," she instructed. The redhead became nervous and got up to refill her tea. Sensing her unease, Hermione asked, "What's wrong?"

Finally setting aside her cup, Susan looked down at her hands. "I've, um, started to see Ron," she mumbled. When asked to repeat herself, Susan looked up. "Ron and I are dating. I'm so sorry, Hermione."

"Why?" she wondered with a soft laugh. When her friend looked confused, Hermione clarified, "Why are you sorry?"

"Well, because...he was almost your fiance," she replied guiltily.

The healer received a reassuring smile in return. "You have nothing to worry about," Hermione promised. "Ron and I never would have worked. We fought too much. It seemed every conversation we had was a fight. You and Ron seem more right together than he and I ever were."

A blush colored Susan's cheeks. "I really like him," she confessed. "Is it that way with Draco? You know, that butterflies in the stomach feeling, or how he's the only person you can think about."

Hermione grinned. "I know exactly what you mean," she replied. "Who'd have thought I'd ever feel that way about Draco Malfoy? He's really been wonderful though. And who would have guessed it would all start in muggle London."

"Ron hates it there," Susan shared. "I guess you already knew that though. I haven't been there since I was little, and I've always wanted to go back. But Ron's been pretty adamant about not going."

"Draco and I go all the time. You could tag along with us," Hermione offered.

Susan wrinkled her nose and laughed. "No thanks," she replied. "If the pictures in the paper are to be believed, I don't want to be there to watch the two of you snog each other senseless."

Her face reddening, Hermione looked away. They'd been spotted the day before buying groceries. Cognizant of the media attention, they tried to keep their affections at bay. Hand holding was the most they had done, and Hermione was sure their faces wouldn't appear in the next edition of _The Daily Prophet_. It hadn't occurred to her that a simple conversation about tomatoes, in which Draco had leaned in close to inspect the fruit, could be construed as a tender moment between lovers. That was exactly how it was presented in the morning's paper though.

"We're really not that bad," she stated. "I just wish it weren't such a big deal. Is there really _nothing_ else going on that we're still the lead story?"

Susan shrugged. "I guess not," she replied. "Besides, it's positive news. The reformed Death Eater and the Golden Girl putting aside seven years' worth of animosity. It's like the start of a great romance novel."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Sure, or an epic disaster," she quipped. "I worry that he has these self-destructive tendencies. I've seen them come out, and it's not pretty. When things get too tough, he runs. Or he pushes me away, starts an argument."

"Are you doubting your relationship?" Susan wondered.

"Not at all," Hermione replied with an emphatic shake of her head. "I've never felt this way about anyone before Draco. It just scares me sometimes that I can't help him."

Susan patted her hand and smiled. "I don't have a lot of experience with relationships," she conceded. "From what I do know, though, is that couples fight, and they don't see eye to eye on everything. That's okay, Hermione. It doesn't mean today is your last day with him. He obviously cares about you just as much as you care for him. He's going through something really difficult right now. Just let him know you're here for him."

Hermione nodded as a hunch-shouldered blond passed by the door. She got to her feet and stepped into the hallway. "How'd it go?" she asked.

Draco turned to face her. His eyes were red and dark circles appeared beneath them. She knew he hadn't slept the night before, but it was more heartbreaking when coupled with teary eyes. No words were spoken; he merely hung his head. Soon, she was near enough to wrap her arms around him. He held tight to her waist, his face buried in her curly hair.

"You don't have to tell me," she murmured, her voice soft and soothing. "I'll listen if you want me to. Or we could just go home. I'll make lunch, we'll watch a movie or take a nap. We'll do anything but talk."

He laughed despite the heavy weight of the situation. "No, we should talk," he decided as he lifted his head. "Let's just do it at home instead of here."

Nodding, she returned to the lounge to say goodbye to her friend. Back on their way to the exit, Draco's arm around her shoulders, she commented, "You realize the headline in tomorrow's paper will be that I'm pregnant."

He stopped walking, his arm slipping away. "Why?" he inquired.

"You, me, a maternity ward, crying," she stated. "We bought tomatoes and they scandalized that. Imagine what this'll do."

He caught back up to her, taking her hand in his this time. "We're never going out in public again," he muttered.


	14. Chapter 14

I own neither _Fatal Attraction_ nor _Grease_. Unless you count the VHS copy of the edited for TV version that my mom recorded off of TBS sometime around 1995. I think it's actually on the same tape my dad used to record the play version of _Grease_ that my brother and I were in. He did a William Shatner, spoken word version of Go Grease Lightning. It was awful, and 18 years later, I still haven't let him live it down.

* * *

Chapter 14

Lying together in bed, a movie on the television, Draco thought only of mother's day at St. Mungo's. He had yet to talk to Hermione about day's events, and wasn't sure just how to broach the topic. Instead, he watched the movie, hoping to get lost in the singing and dancing lives of American high school students.

"You reckon they really do that in schools?" he asked.

Hermione laughed. "I wouldn't bet on it," she replied. "Unless it's the school from Fame. They might really spend their days singing and dancing through the streets. I doubt American schools are like Rydell High though."

"So, um, my mother begged me not to leave her," he said, attempting to sound casual and failing. Hermione pressed the pause button on the remote and sat up to face him. If he was ready to talk, then she was ready to listen. "They're keeping her for thirty days, but that's just a preliminary estimate. If their treatments don't work, if they can't convince her that the war is over and my father is gone, then who knows how long she'll be there. I was just standing there while they asked her question after question, and she wouldn't answer any of them. She just stared at me and asked where my father was."

"What did you tell her?" Hermione wondered.

Draco shrugged. "That he was away," he said. "I never know what else to say, and she seems to accept that. So then the healer asked her where she thought 'away' was, and she accused him of being a muggle lover like her ungrateful son who's forcing her to be locked up against her will."

"You're not an ingrate," she told him, taking his hand. "She needs help. I think you're doing the right thing here."

He reached for the remote, his finger hover over the play button. "What if my father were released?" he wondered. "Do you think that would turn things around?"

"I don't know," was all she could say. "Harry didn't say anything about parole. I'm not sure it's even an option."

Nodding his head, he pressed play. In his mind, the conversation was over. But Hermione felt differently. She took the remote from him and stopped the movie once more. "What?" he asked irritatedly.

"You said he's changed," she replied. "I could ask Harry about the possibility of getting his sentence reduced."

"Whatever," he muttered, shrugged, and tried to take the remote from her again, but Hermione kept it away. "I'm not going to get my hopes up that he'll get out," he stated. "Talk to Potter, don't talk to Potter. This day has been trying enough and it's only noon. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

She got off the bed and tossed the remote to the middle of the mattress. "Fine," she muttered as she left the room. He pressed play and increased the volume, letting the sounds from the television fill the tiny flat. It was only seconds later when Hermione reappeared and turned off the set. "No. You know what? It's not fine. I was just offering to help. There was no reason for you to do what you always do."

"And what do I always do?" he demanded.

"This!" she replied. "You get sulky. You get angry. You pick a fight. I understand that what you're going through is difficult. All I'm asking is that you don't take out your frustration on me."

Sighing, he got to his feet and rounded the bed to stand in front of her. "I don't want to fight with you," he said calmly. "I'm sorry, okay?"

She nodded, but refused to meet his eye. "I'm sorry too," she told him. "I'll be down in the shop. I promised Mary that she'd have help today."

"Are we okay?" he asked, following her to the living room.

She pulled on a pair of flats and sighed. "Yeah, sure," she said tiredly. "I'll be back up in a few hours."

He nodded and watched as she prepared to leave. When the door was open, he reached for her arm to stop her. "I really am sorry," he told her. "Sometimes I don't realize what I'm doing until someone else points it out. And that's no excuse for doing it; I know that. I don't want you to walk out without you knowing how much I love you for all you've done for me. I just...I really appreciate how much you've helped."

Hermione tried to fight back a smile. "What was that again?" she asked, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

Draco thought back to what he had just said, and a blush began to stain his cheeks. "I appreciate you?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Before that."

"I'm sorry?"

Once again, she shook her head. "No, after that."

Draco groaned. "You're not going to let me live this down, are you?" he asked.

The smile she had been biting back fell. "Did you not mean it?" she wondered.

He took her hand and drew her close. "No, I meant it...mean it," he told her. "I've, um, never said it to anyone before. We weren't exactly the most affectionate, share your feelings kind of family. I really didn't expect to be the first one to say it."

Her smile was back in place. "Say what?" she asked.

"That I love you," he finally said, receiving a kiss in return. "You're my best friend. The best girlfriend I've ever had. I'm happiest when I'm with you. I want to marry you and have a hundred babies with you. When you die, just throw me in with you. I refuse to live without you, Hermione Granger."

She laughed and pushed him away. "You're a git," she replied, though she was still thoroughly amused by his monologue.

"Wait, that's it?" he asked when she tried to leave again.

Hermione shrugged. "You snore. Very loudly," she informed him. "It's having adverse effects on my REM cycle. I'm also going to need you to put the toilet seat down when you've finished. I almost fell in the other night."

"Snoring and midnight bathroom breaks. I say I love you, and this is what you want to discuss?" he asked.

"Why? What did you want to talk about?" she wondered as naively as possible.

He pulled her to him and held her close. The seconds ticked by as he waited for her to say it, to say anything, but Hermione remained tight lipped. "I won't be ignored, Dan," he warned her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're not planning to buy me a rabbit, wait for me to fall in love with it, and then _Fatal Attraction_ it, are you?" she asked. "Because you know how bothered I was by that scene."

"Are you afraid to say it?" he wondered, all pretenses of humor now gone. "I'd understand if you don't feel the same way. It's sudden, I know that, but-"

"Ron used to say it all time," she told him. "It was usually after I promised to help him with homework or because I'd very reluctantly allow him to spend the night. I never got the feeling that he really meant it."

"Do you think I don't mean it?" Draco asked, brows furrowing with concern that perhaps he hadn't sounded sincere.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I know you mean it," she replied. "I also know that despite how often we argue and annoy one another, I love you too."


	15. Chapter 15

I went outside during lunch and it was warm! Granted, I was still wearing a jacket and I needed it, but it's the most perfect weather. Then I came back in and it's freezing in my office. The other side of the floor feels at least 10 degrees warmer. So not fair.

* * *

Chapter 15

"Don't you think the two of you have moved a bit quickly?" Harry asked as he and Hermione ate lunch in her office. "I mean, it was, what, twenty minutes after you and Ron broke up that you started dating Malfoy. Now you're living together and professing your undying love. Is it too soon to ask when the wedding is?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's not too fast," she argued. "We were friends first. Nothing has really changed between us. Our behavior is exactly the same now as it was when I was with Ron."

Harry smirked. "Including the snogging," he added.

She shrugged. "You and I both know Ron and I weren't right for each other," she said. "We knew it too. It just took some time to accept that realization and then take the necessary actions to rectify the situation."

A nod of his confirmed her statement. They were both stubborn and unyielding, but Hermione had the good sense to admit when someone else was right. Ron was a freight train, running full steam ahead without thinking of others. Harry had lost track of the number of times he had taken advantage of Hermione, how many times his words and thoughtless actions had hurt her.

"I'm glad that the two of you have managed to break up amicably and stay friends," Harry replied. "I just worry that you're rushing into something new with Malfoy so soon after."

Hermione nodded. "I promise, Harry, this is it," she told him. "From here on out, things will go slowly. We have no intentions of getting married or starting a family. He just needs a little stability right now, and if I can provide that, that's what I'm going to do."

"Then do it," he encouraged. "Just don't let him break your heart."

* * *

"Mail came while you were at lunch with Potter," Draco said, eyes trained on the television while he ate a bowl of oatmeal.

Hermione picked up the small stack of letters and sat down beside him. "You haven't moved from this spot since you woke up this morning," she commented as she flipped through the mail.

He glanced at her briefly, intending to reply, but stopped. In her hand was a small white envelope from Ron Weasley and Susan Bones. She held it out to him. Tearing open the envelope, he quickly scanned the invitation. "They're engaged," he said, handing the little card to her.

"And Harry was just warning _me_ to take things slow," she muttered bitterly.

Draco shrugged. "Maybe he just likes Susan better," he suggested. "You have to admit that your friends can't have been too happy that you dumped Weasley for me. No doubt I'm still public enemy number one with the lot of them."

"I don't think that's true," she replied, gently massaging his neck. "Harry wouldn't have helped look into your father's sentencing if he felt that way. He would have yelled at me and told me we weren't friends anymore if he really thought that badly of you."

His attention returned to the television. "You didn't exactly deny that they're not happy about us though," he groused.

She pulled her hand away and reread the invitation to Ron and Susan's engagement party. "I don't know how they feel about us," she confessed. "I haven't been shunned, so I'm taking that as a good sign. Harry's still talking to me, Ron's inviting me to parties. I haven't been given an official confirmation, but it all seems to point towards positive."

He glanced at her from the side of his eye. "Are you making fun of me?" he asked.

After kissing his cheek, she settled down beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. "No, not about this," she replied. "The way your hair is sticking up in the back though, I've really been biting my tongue on that."

Frowning, he smoothed down his hair. "Better?" he asked. Smiling, she nodded. "I shouldn't care that they hate me. But I do. I can't help it."

"Do you ever regret the way we all treated one another?" she wondered.

"Yeah," he admitted. "You mostly. Potter and Weasley I was jealous of. You never did anything to me though. I hated you because my father told me to. And I made you hate me in return."

Hermione sighed. "I hated you at first," she agreed. "I remember seeing you on the train for the first time, surrounded by friends, while I sat alone. Before that day, I'd never thought a boy was cute."

"What about Jimmy Martin?" he asked, smirking.

Lifting her head, she eyed him humorously. "He shared his cookies with me. _That's_ why I liked him," she informed him. "You don't get sweets when your parents are dentists. You're not jealous of him too, are you?"

Draco shook his head. "Now back to your story of how adorable you think I am," he reminded her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, you've killed the moment," she decided. "And I suddenly regret breaking up with Ron. Do you think it's too late to get back together with him?"

"He's engaged."

"Engaged isn't married."

Getting up, he went to the small kitchen to rinse out his bowl. "You _are_ joking, right?" he asked over the sound of the running water.

She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Yes," she told him, calming his fears. "Like I was saying, I hated that you had friends. Here I was in a new world, on my own, didn't know a single soul. And then you smiled at me as I passed your car. That was it, you just smiled. I thought I might finally be able to make a friend."

"Until I found out you're muggleborn," he added sadly.

Hermione nodded, her chin poking into his back. "Yeah," she murmured. "I decided from then on that I'd just ignore you. Sure, your words hurt, but they were nothing to get myself worked up over. Then, in sixth year, Harry got it in his head that you were a Death Eater. All I could think was how awful that must have been for you. Your father in prison, Voldemort taking over your home. I just couldn't hate you after that."

"Why?" he wondered, turning in her arms to face her.

"Because I truly believed that you wanted nothing to do with that entire lot," she replied. "I watched you a lot that year. I saw how miserable you looked, how scared you seemed to be."

He nodded as they recalled that year. It had been one of the worst of his life. It was a year that haunted his dreams each night. "I remember seeing you during the final battle," he shared. "I was relieved to see you. After what my aunt had done...I was afraid that you might not be okay. When the ceasefire was called and I was standing near you, I wanted so badly to just stay there. I couldn't leave my mother though, and so I went back to her. There was this look of, I don't know, disappointment on your face. It was the same look I saw that day in the movie theater."

Hermione frowned. "I wasn't disappointed that you were there. I was just disappointed that I wasn't alone," she told him. "That was a really great day. In fact, about fifteen minutes in, I was really glad you were there."

Lowering his head, he brushed a tender kiss across her lips. "So, um, I know you told Potter that we're going slow, and I think we should," he said. "But if I were to propose someday, do you think you'd say yes?"

"I know I would," she replied.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The engagement party was held at the Weasley family home two weeks after the invitation had been sent out. Draco held Hermione's hand as they approached the festivities, held in the large backyard behind the Burrow. "I know it said Hermione Granger and Guest, but I'm not sure I'm who they had in mind," he said nervously.

Since the invite had come, Draco had attempted to concoct an excuse that would get him out of going to the party. Dragon pox. Work commitments. A long, lingering fear of dying at the hands of gingers. None of them worked. Hermione had merely rolled her eyes, sent him to the shower, and picked out his clothes. When he'd emerged, dripping wet with a towel around his waist, she stood by the door and waited for him to dry and dress. He muttered about being treated like a two year-old, but Hermione said nothing. She hadn't said more than two words since they left their flat.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. "Yep. Good, fine," she replied quickly and with too much enthusiasm.

Draco frowned and gave her hand a squeeze. "Are you worried about seeing the Weasleys?" he wondered.

Sighing, she stopped walking and turned to face him. "A bit," she admitted. "It's just...your family and theirs have never gotten along. I haven't talked to Ron since we broke up. Maybe this isn't the right time to announce our relationship to everyone."

"Everyone's already seen it on the front page of _The Daily Prophet_," he pointed out. Hermione shrugged and looked down at her feet. "Do you not want me to go in with you?"

"No, I do," she replied with a heavy sigh. "I'm just worried about what could happen."

He let go of her hand. "I'm not going to do anything," he assured her.

"What makes you think it's _you_ I'm worried about?" she inquired, arms crossed over her chest.

Draco shrugged. "Aren't you?" he wondered. She shook her head, but he wasn't convinced. "Then who are you concerned about? Potter seems fine with us. I doubt Weasley will even have time to care about me given it's his party. Now, I have no idea who else was invited, but I'm sure they'd all be on their best behavior as well."

Letting her arms fall to her sides, Hermione finally looked up at him. "It's just paranoia," she explained. "It's memories of the way the three of you were when we were growing up. So, yes, past experience has taught me to be concerned about the three of you being in the same place."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Fine, I'll see you at home," he said and turned on his heel to leave.

And Hermione let him go. She hadn't even bothered to watch him walk away. Instead, she turned toward the backyard and joined the party. Spotting Harry and Ginny by the refreshment table, she plastered a smile on her face and approached them.

"Where's Malfoy?" Harry wondered, looking around at the gathered guests.

Hermione shrugged. "He couldn't make it," she replied. "Work."

The couple exchanged a brief, concerned look before turning back to her. "Trouble in paradise?" Ginny asked. With a roll of her eyes, Hermione shook her head. "Well, you know Mum. She made a ton of food. You should bring him a plate."

"Oh, is that Neville over there?" Hermione asked without really looking for anyone. "I should go say hi." She left the couple and rounded the house so she could be alone. Draco had only left minutes earlier, but she already missed him. All she could think about was returning home to him, and so, she slipped back in to greet Ron and say her goodbyes.

Standing by the food table, Ron spotted her and smiled. "Hey, glad you could make it," he said when she approached.

"Congratulations," she replied, forcing a smile. "I have to say, I wasn't expecting this. It's been, what, a month?"

Ron blushed, spotting his fiancee across the yard. "Yeah, I know. It was quick," he agreed. "Harry seemed a bit unconvinced that I was doing the right thing, but Susan's great. Which isn't to say that you weren't, or anything. It's a different kind of great. Sorry, I'm just really excited."

Hermione chuckled. "I'm really happy for you," she replied, her smile becoming a bit more genuine. "I'm really sorry to do this, but Draco's home sick. I hate skipping out early, but I should really get back to him."

Ron nodded understandingly. "Yeah, of course," he said. "Wait right here. I'll get you a few containers so you can take some food home. Mum made way too much anyhow. We'll be eating shepherd's pie for the next year. Plus, you know Mum's theory - a good meal cures all ills."

The flat was dark when she returned home with a sack full of food. "Draco?" she called out. Getting no answer, she moved from the living room to the bedroom to the bathroom, and back again. The lights were off in each room and Draco was nowhere to be found. The front door was slightly ajar though, and she wondered if he had gone down to the shop. It was closed for the night, but she knew he enjoyed browsing alone.

Food still in hand, she made her way down the stairs and entered her bookstore. Wand light was all that illuminated the cozy space, and it made Draco easier to locate. "Oh, hey," he said flatly when he saw her.

"Hi," she greeted him, holding up the bag. "I have 'I'm sorry I'm a terrible girlfriend' food for you."

He snapped shut the book he'd been reading and placed it back on the shelf. "I'm not hungry," he muttered.

Nodding, she put the bag down and sat on the floor. "I just realized something," she said, sure he wasn't listening to her. "I lied to Harry and Ron, and told them completely different stories. So, not only am I a terrible girlfriend, but I'm also a horrible friend. I'm really doing well tonight."

"Quit it," he replied. She glanced up to find him staring down at her. "We both know you're doing this just so I'll feel bad for you."

"Is it working?" she joked.

Draco scowled and returned to the shelves. "Do you feel bad about how I feel?" he wondered. "Do you feel guilty that you made me feel like I wasn't good enough to be around your friends, or that you were just expecting me to cause trouble? I thought you of all people knew how much I've changed, or tried to change. It doesn't matter though, does it?"

Getting to her feet, she stood behind him and rested her hands on his waist. "I didn't realize," she said softly. "I know you're not the same as you were in school. Sometimes, when Harry and Ron are involved though, I sort of forget that we're not eleven years old anymore. And sometimes I only think about how a situation makes me feel. What I said wasn't fair to you, and I'm so sorry that I hurt you."

Draco rested his forehead against the edge of the closest shelf. He wanted to push her away, tell her to leave him alone. But more than anything, he wanted to turn around and kiss her, tell her all was forgiven. He couldn't decide if she was forgiven though.

"I just...I need some time," he decided, removing her hands from his hips.

"How much time?" she asked as he walked toward the front door.

Sighing, he stopped, his hand on the knob. "I don't know."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"Where's he staying?" Mary wondered as she and Hermione stood behind the checkout counter during a lull in business. Hermione shrugged and began to sticker a new stack of books. "Have you spoken to him? When's he coming back?"

Hermione groaned. All day long Mary had peppered her with questions about Draco and the temporary moratorium on their relationship. "I have no answers," she stated. "No more questions, I beg of you."

"Okay, fine," Mary relented. They continued to work in silence, but curiosity always got the best of the young witch. "Just answer one question for me. Are you upset that he left?"

Putting down the stickers, Hermione rested her arms on the counter and stared out the front window. Draco was all she had thought about since he had walked out three days earlier. Try as she might to put it out of her mind, it was an unavoidable thought that she couldn't shake. She had wondered the same things that Mary asked, but she too received no answers.

"I keep expecting him to walk through that door," she finally said. "I don't think I've slept through the night since he left. The worst part is that I feel so guilty about what I said to him, but I have no way of telling him that I'm sorry."

"What if you sent an owl off to find him?" Mary suggested. "Give it a note, ask him to let you know that he's okay. Might put your mind at ease, at least a little bit."

Hermione shook her head. "I've already sent fifteen," she admitted sheepishly. "Unless he's left the country, I think he's ignoring me."

"I wonder if he went back to Malfoy Manor," Mary said, picking up a stack of books to be shelved.

The older witch frowned. He'd spoken often of the nightmares his familial home had inspired. It was the last place she would have thought to look for him though. "Do you think he'd really go there?"

Mary shrugged. "Couldn't hurt to look."

And that was exactly what Hermione did. After closing the shop for the night, she floo'd to Malfoy Manor. She breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn't closed the connection between her flat and his home. His bedroom was exactly as it had been the last time she'd visited, but with one notable exception. The bed was unmade and a pile of dirty clothing was haphazardly left at the foot of it. The bathroom door was shut, but there was a sliver of light seeping out from the space at the bottom. Knowing he would eventually have to come out, she sat down and waited for him.

When the door opened minutes later, Draco was unaware that he was no longer alone. He rubbed his wet hair with a towel and tossed it aside when he was done. His back was to her as he picked out a simple t-shirt and pair of shorts. Hands on the towel around his waist, he turned and gasped.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Um, I know you said you needed time, but I was worried about you and I miss you. I just wanted to see you again, make sure you're alright," she rambled, looking anywhere but at him.

He wrapped the towel tighter around his waist. "Well, I'm fine," he muttered. "And I don't need a babysitter. So, you can go home."

She rose and crossed the room to stand before him. "Please," she whispered. "I hate this. I hate being in our flat without you. I hate going to bed alone and waking up alone. I hate that it's been three days and already your pillow has stopped smelling like you. I miss you and I want you to come home, and if it takes me getting down on my knees and begging, then that's what I'll do."

"Stop," he said, all anger now gone from his voice. "Just...stop. I don't want you grovelling at my feet or sobbing over this. Sometimes things just don't work out, and maybe our relationship is one of those things."

Hermione swallowed past the lump that had formed in her throat and nodded. "Okay," she replied, backing away from him. "So, then it's over? You and I are done, just like that?"

Sighing, he pulled the shirt over his head and slid his short on beneath the towel. "I guess," he said. "I don't know. I don't want us to be, but you haven't changed. You're still stubborn and stuck in this idea that I'm the bad guy. Did you ever stop to consider that I might actually be able to get along with Harry and Ron? No, you didn't. You just automatically assumed that I'd cause trouble, that I'd start a fight."

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have bothered you. I understand that now. From here on out, you don't have to put up with me anymore."

A pit formed in his stomach as he watched her walk away toward the fireplace. He could say nothing, allow her to step in and floo home, never see her again. Or he could stop her. He wanted to tell her that he didn't want things to be over. He wanted their relationship. More than anything, he wanted her friendship.

"Wait," he said as she grabbed a handful of floo powder. Granules slipped through her fingers and embedded in the carpet, but she didn't turn around. He heard her sniffle and knew she tried to stifle it. Coming up behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

She sniffled once more and turned, dislodging his hands. "No, it's fine. It's the truth, after all," she told him. "I haven't changed. But you were wrong too. It wasn't just you I was worried about. I was worried _for_ you. I didn't want them to hurt you. There was a better way to tell you that, and I'm sorry I didn't realize that at the time."

Draco nodded. "True, but I could have handled things differently as well," he replied. "I shouldn't have left."

"I don't want to fight anymore," she decided tiredly. "All Ron and I did was fight. For the longest time, I thought it was his fault. Maybe it's me, though. Maybe I'm to blame for all the arguments."

Draco shrugged. "Sometimes, maybe, but so what?" he wondered. "So we don't agree on everything. I never expected us to. At the end of the day, all that matters to me is how much I love you and want to be with you."

"We're not over?" she asked.

Taking her hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. "We're not over," he confirmed.


	18. Chapter 18

I wrote the epilogue today! I'll probably do something similar to _Orphan_ where I post the epilogue in the morning, then something new a little later on in the day.

* * *

Chapter 18

"Do you ever worry that we'll end up like Katie and Hubbell?" Hermione asked as they laid in bed later that night.

Rolling onto his side to face her, Draco saw the worry in her brown eyes. "No," he said. The wrinkle between her brows deepened. He could see the question forming, and answered before she had the chance to ask it. "I don't know. I just don't think he loved her. She was infatuated with him, and he seemed to sort of tolerate her. It's not like that with us. Sure we fight, and yes, the last one was pretty bad, but it's not all we do."

"Sometimes it feels like it is," she mumbled.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him, and smiled. "It's not," he assured her. "We talk and laugh and watch horrible movies. I did a lot of thinking about us when I went back to the manor, and I was trying to remember when it was that I last had fun before I met you. Do you want to know what I came up with?"

The wrinkle lessened and she turned to face him. "Yeah, I do," she replied.

"Playing Quidditch in fifth year," he stated. "We played Ravenclaw and won. It took me three hours to catch the snitch, but I did it. Then my father was arrested, I was forced to become a Death Eater, war broke out, my father was arrested again, and my mother went crazy. There wasn't one single moment of fun to be had with all of that happening. And then I walked into the movie house and sat down near you, and everything changed."

Hermione snorted as she traced the fine, white scar that ran from his throat to the center of his chest. "I don't think anyone has ever used the word fun to describe me," she said.

He stilled her hand. "I think you're fun," he replied. "I've always enjoyed a challenge, and that's what you are. You're challenging and frustrating and you're never wrong. Even when you're wrong, you're never wrong. There's always something about what you have to say that's always right. Ten years ago, I would have hated you for it."

"Ten years ago you would have called me a mudblood and insulted my hair," she added.

He gave one curl a gentle tug. "I still make fun of your hair," he confessed. "The bathtub looks like Hagrid's just been here after you get out."

Despite the slap that landed on his chest, Hermione laughed. "You use too much conditioner," she accused.

"Think you can forgive me for that?" he asked, caressing her cheek.

"You've forgiven me for much worse," she replied.

Draco shrugged. "It's what you do when you love someone," he told her.

Rolling onto her back, Hermione stared up at the ceiling. "Does it ever scare you?" she wondered. "Loving someone so much. It shouldn't be scary, right?"

Propping his head up on his hand, he stared down at her, confused and concerned by her question. "Where's this coming from?" he wondered. Turning her head away, she shrugged. "No, it doesn't scare me. It should. At one time it did, but it doesn't now. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you, and I don't think anything will ever change that."

Sitting up, Hermione tossed away the blankets and got to her feet. Without a word, she crossed the room, entered the bathroom, and shut the door behind her. He followed and banged on the door, pleading with her to open it. After several minutes, she finally obliged and quickly turned away from him.

"I'm sorry," she said, and it was then he knew she was crying.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub he watched as tried to control her tears. "What happened?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head as she tried to dry her eyes. "I don't know," she whispered, taking a seat on the toilet lid.

"Did it have to do with my answer to your question?" he wondered, reaching for her hand.

Hermione inhaled and breathed out a deep breath. "It scares me," she confessed. "You tell me how much you love me, that you've never loved anyone so much, but you walked away. For three days, I had no idea how to reach you. My letters came back with no reply. I never expected to find you at the manor. You hated that place so much, but that's where you went when you wanted to get away from me."

Draco sighed. "All that talk about loving me and wanting to stay with me, was it all just talk?" he asked, feeling anger rise up inside of himself.

She shook her head emphatically. "No, none of it was just talk," she replied, furiously wiping the tears from her eyes. "I do love you, Draco. At the same time, I hate you for walking out that door. Then I started to wonder, is that how it's going to be every time we have an argument that you don't want to have? You're just going to leave me?"

He held out his hand, willing her to accept it. When she didn't, he got to his feet and started to pace in the small bathroom. "Sometimes I overreact," he admitted. "It's not right, it's no excuse, but it's the truth. The very thought that you didn't trust me hurt, Hermione. So, I did the first thing that came to mind - I ran. I just...I wish I knew how to make you see that I'm here for the long haul. We're going to fight a million more times, but I swear to you, Hermione, I'll never leave again."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she cautioned.

Shaking his head, he once again sat down across from her. "Maybe you're right," he said. "There might come a time when I walk out or you walk out. Can't we just chalk this up to being a one time thing, though? We were doing so well before."

"We were," she agreed.

"Okay," he said with a hesitant smile. "Then let's go back to that. Let's put this fight behind us like we have with all the others. I just want you to be happy again."

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, I want that too," she replied. His smile grew, and as he got to his feet, he reached out to help her up. "Um, give me a minute, will you? I need to wash my face."

He kissed her cheek and went back to the bedroom. After shutting and locking the door, Hermione sat back down on the lid of the toilet and sighed. In the trash can beside her was the pregnancy test she'd taken the day before. The one that came up positive.


	19. Epilogue

As promised, here's the epilogue! If you've seen _The Way We Were_, then you'll get the baby's name. If not, then it's just a pretty name. Enjoy!

* * *

Epilogue

"So, you want him to be involved in the baby's life, but you won't marry him?" Ginny asked as she and a very pregnant Hermione strolled through Diagon Alley.

Hermione shrugged. "What's the point?" she wondered. "We're both happy with the way things are now. We're friends and roommates, and soon we'll be parents. We both know how quickly a relationship ruined things between us. Honestly, sometimes I think the only reason we stayed friends is the baby."

Ginny shook her head. "I don't believe that for a second," she declared, steering her friend toward her bookstore. "Draco loves you. He's just biding his time until you take him back."

They entered the shop and waved to Mary as she rung up a customer. Passing through the back office, Hermione slowly climbed the stairs behind Ginny. The small flat had been modified to make room for the nursery, a room which Draco declared off limits to her until the baby was born. He had even used magic to ward the room against the curious witch.

The door opened and shut quickly, and Draco emerged with yellow paint on his cheek. "Oh, hi," he said, greeting the newly arrived women. "Hermione, sit."

"I'm not a dog," she replied indignantly, though she did as he said.

"How was your walk?" he asked, filling a glass with water. He took a seat on the sofa and handed it to her. "You look flushed. I thought it was supposed to be cool today."

Hermione drank half of the water and handed the glass back to him. "When you weigh as much as the Hogwarts Express, no temperature is cool enough," she groused.

"Just another couple of weeks," he assured her. "The baby will be here and you'll have a whole host of other things to blame me for."

Ginny gestured for him to join her in the kitchen as Hermione muttered something about him being a masochist. "First, you have a little something," she said, pointing to the paint. "Second, did you get it? I'm still willing to hold it for you."

Glancing back at Hermione, he shook his head. "She doesn't want it," he replied, hopelessly. "I know I messed a lot of things up when we were dating, but I'm the one who wanted to stick with this. I chalked so much of the fighting up to hormones at first, but she's been adamant that the only way for us to work is to just be friends."

"Friends who sleep in the same bed and often see one another naked," Ginny pointed out, one eyebrow raised. "Those kind of friends?"

Draco shrugged and refilled the glass. "What do you want me to say, Ginny?" he wondered. "I'm doing everything I can think of to make her realize that we should be together again. You know how stubborn she is."

It had been the very same night that Draco had returned home that Hermione had decided they should just be friends again. She hadn't yet told him about the pregnancy when she made up her mind. Draco had been upset, but felt reassured that she still wanted him to be a part of her life. He would still have a place to live and he would still have her.

Then, she told him that she was pregnant. Hermione assured him that she wanted nothing from him, and that included marriage. The proper, pureblood gentleman believed in doing the right thing by the family he had helped to create, but Hermione stood firm that they would not marry.

Ginny nodded knowingly. "You know she's just waiting for you to give up," she told him. "I reckon she's hoping the baby will distract you from her."

Draco snorted. "And here I thought I was the crazy one," he muttered.

"She's just afraid of past events happening again," she said, patting his hand.

Draco nodded. "Yeah, I know," he agreed. "I'm never living that down, am I?"

"She's hormonal. Give her a little more time," Ginny advised. When Draco nodded, promising that he would, she smiled. "Good, now go back in there before she get suspicious that we're talking about her."

"She already knows," he predicted.

They turned back to the living room as Hermione stood up. "I'm tired and my stomach hurts," she declared. "I'm going to take a nap."

"Sleep well," Draco replied as Hermione kissed his cheek before passing them to go to the bedroom.

Ginny left soon after and Draco returned to finish painting the nursery. It was well past eight o'clock when he finished and went to check on Hermione. She was fast asleep with the blankets pulled up to her chin. Exhausted, he showered and slipped into bed. She shifted beside him and opened her eyes.

"Hi," she whispered. "Did my water break or are you still wet from the shower?"

He jumped out of bed and pulled back the blankets. "Merlin, Hermione, we have to go," he exclaimed, rushing about the room. "Can you get up or do you need help? Your back is packed. I'll call Ginny when we get to the hospital and have her spread the word to the rest of your friends. Um, what am I forgetting?"

"Me?" she suggested.

"I'm an idiot," he mumbled. "Okay, shoes, then up."

He slipped the nearest pair of shoes onto her feet and helped her up. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, they Apparated to St. Mungo's. Hermione was quickly escorted to a room, while Draco was forced to wait outside while she was examined. He paced nervously outside the door for a few minutes before remembering that he was supposed to contact Ginny. By the time he returned, he was allowed to Hermione.

"It's too soon," she said, tears in her eyes, when she saw him. "There's still two weeks left. I wrote it down on the calendar, and the calendar says I still have two weeks. There's too much that has to be done. The nursery and cleaning all those clothes and, oh my goodness, we never picked out a name. How can I be a parent if I can't even think of a name?"

Draco took a seat beside her bed and held her hand. "We have time," he assured her. "Sure, it's not two weeks, but we've definitely got a few hours. The nursery is done. I wanted it to be a surprise. Um, I was actually going to show you tomorrow, but it looks like you and the baby will have to see it together. I'll ask Ginny to take care of the clothes. I'm sure her mother has a handy laundry spell. As for the name, I know you've got a list. You've done your research. The perfect name will come when we see her."

"Her?"

"Or him," he said quickly.

Hermione frowned. "I hate you that found out," she muttered.

Draco smiled and kissed the back of her hand. "I don't know how you can stand not knowing," he replied.

"Some things should be a surprise," she decided. Draco nodded and held her hand as a contraction hit. "I don't like those," she groused when it passed.

"I know," he said softly. "It'll be over soon though."

Soon would last twelve more hours. By the end of it, Hermione lay in bed, exhausted, with her new daughter cradled in her arms. "Rachel," she whispered.

Draco smiled and kissed the crown of the baby's head. "It's perfect," he replied. "She's perfect."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Thank you for helping me through this," she said to him. "You have no idea how grateful I am that I had you by my side. Even if I might have broken your hand and told you I never wanted to see you again."

"Forget it," he replied with a smile. "I knew you didn't mean it."

She shifted nervously. "About what I said," she started. "You remember, just after they told me it was time? My proposal."

He nodded. "Should I forget that too?" he asked.

Hermione looked down at her sleeping newborn. "Do you want to?" she wondered.

"No," he admitted.

"I've been thinking about it for awhile, even though I've tried to deny it," she confessed. "I don't want to be like Katie and Hubbell. I want us to be a family, a real family. I want you to be a full time part of Rachel's life and mine. I didn't ask you to marry me because of her though. I love you, Draco, and all I can think about is spending the rest of my life with you. You've been so good to me, put up with everything I've thrown at you, but you've stayed. I will always want you to stay."

She finally looked up and he saw tears in her eyes. "Even though we fight?" he asked, to which he received a nod. "It's all I think about too, and I've wanted to ask a million times. I just always thought you'd say no."

"Are you saying no?" she wondered.

Smiling, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. "I'm saying yes."

**The End**


End file.
